


Pack Dynamics

by Kairi_of_Knives



Series: Flying Together [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ashen Wolves Route, Byleth is sick of being kept in the dark, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Temporary Character Death, finally complete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 139,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22857652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairi_of_Knives/pseuds/Kairi_of_Knives
Summary: When Byleth first came to Garreg Mach, she was asked to choose which house she would teach.  Though she did not know the students yet, that selection felt as though it was bigger and more momentous than it should have been.  A shot in the dark, a flippant decision made from too little information to risk one's fate on. Despite Rhea's keen interest in her, any other new professor would also have been asked to choose between the Black Eagles, Blue Lions and Golden Deer. It was, at its core, arbitrary.The Ashen Wolf House got to know her as a vigilante problem solver before she was ever their professor.  They got to see her messy strategies when she was more than a little bit desperate for the win.  They got to preview the series of mysteries woven together to make her life.  They saw how she could drag people unwittingly into the web of secrets, danger and ancient magic.And yet, somehow, despite all that...they chose her anyway.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg & Claude von Riegan, Linhardt von Hevring & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Flying Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677484
Comments: 422
Kudos: 485





	1. You know the end is just the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Cindered Shadows was a fantastic story that taught us more about Byleth and her family in 6 chapters than all of Silver Snow, Azure Moon, and Crimson Flower COMBINED. All four of the new kiddos are beautiful and amazing and I wanted a post-time skip story with them as the main focus, so I'm tentatively creating my own. Not sure how in detail or long this will be. In general, the more feedback I get, the more I feel like writing. So please feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments :)
> 
> I'm taking a bit of liberty with geography. The story will mostly be from Byleth and Yuri's POVs but I'm definitely planning on focusing on Constance, Baltie and Hapi too. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

They had won. 

The past few nights had been an overall hellish affair. None in Abyss slept easily under the constant threat of assassins storming their home to kill them while they rested, simply for committing the grave sin of living. Peace evaded the Ashen Wolves, tasked with protecting the weak, old and young who could not defend themselves, more than anyone. Yuri acknowledged that he had probably slept the least. It was to be expected. So many weights bore down on his steadfast shoulders. A threat on his mother's life, the captivity of his gang, the livelihood of his family here in Abyss, and even the new friends who refused to keep their noses out of business that wasn't theirs to dwell on. Not to mention the idea that for years now, a man who had given him stability, a home, whispered vicious threats in his ears. Yuri had come to terms long ago with the idea that his beloved mentor thought of him and the Wolves as only a means to a bloody, grotesque end. Yuri despised him for that. Every moment from when the Ashen Wolves first came together had been spent slowly pulling together pieces of a plan to deny Aelfric his ambitions and repay him for those long months of psychological torture.

And, to his immense satisfaction, it had worked. They had _won_. 

At a cost.

A battle that started in the holy mausoleum had drifted to the outer spaces of the church and eventually off of it's grounds. The Umbral Beast made from the corruption of Aelfric and Sitri by the Chalice of Beginnings had been a nightmare made real and not a single one of them had escaped without injury. The rush of defeating such a beast was understandable. The joyous laughter of their party echoed across the open grounds of the abandoned chapel where they had ended up. Even the Knights seemed excited. All but one.

It hadn't just been Aelfric's form twisted into that monster, but Sitri's as well. Yuri had no connection to the woman and felt only disgust that his mentor had been so obsessed with reviving a corpse.

But that woman had been Byleth's mother.

None could deny that the professor was a stoic woman. She showed little emotion and only spoke when she had important thoughts to convey. In that way, every interaction Yuri had had with the woman felt vitally important. Her students adored her despite her apathetic mask, and it was her stubborn desire to help and genuine interest in knowing the Wolves that allowed her to dig her way even into Yuri's heart. He could admit that flirting with her was not the best way to make her aware of his plan. Who could resist a chance to chip away at the armor of someone so untouchable? At the time, Yuri had no consideration for whether his come-on's were pretty fallacy or startling truth. All he craved was her understanding, support and a _reaction_. It was slightly disappointing when she took his request almost too factually back then. Yet, he could not remain cross with her lack of fluster when she held up her end of their unspoken bargain so beautifully. Her trust in him was worth more than any blush upon her face. Still, Yuri did find himself wanting to know what it would take to break that facade.

He knew now what could do it. And it was not nearly as lovely a sight as he had hoped.

Sitri's body had been warped almost beyond recognition once the beast faded back into it's core components. The once unmarred beauty was ripped and torn into a sickening form. That broken corpse was Byleth's _mother_. One she had never known. One that had, as Lady Rhea seemed to be explaining almost proudly to Byleth's trembling form, given her life in exchange for her daughter's. Yuri knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on this moment. But he also felt it was wrong to scurry back to their friends and rejoice over this gruesome outcome. 

Aelfric was sick for coveting the affection of a corpse as he did. Lady Rhea, however, was the one who failed to bury that corpse. And the more she explained of Byleth's birth, the more sour Yuri's stomach became.

"So my Father lied to me," Byleth concluded, fists clenched so hard they shook. "About my birth, my mother, you....everything."

Rhea's soft, motherly smile faded a bit. "Oh, Child. I do not know why Jeralt kept such things from you. Nor do I know why he stole you away from this place. But you have returned, dear one. You're back where you belong. And I will cherish your presence at my side for eternity."

Yuri's eyes narrowed. Eternity? Odd for even an Archbishop of the Faith to make such brazen claims as the ability to know eternity. 

"You've lied to me too." Byleth's voice wavered in a way Yuri had never heard before. Betrayal, anger, sorrow...such strong emotions plain on Byleth's face was a shock. 

"Only out of necessity," Rhea soothed, dismissive. "I did not wish to overwhelm you so soon after our reunion."

Byleth shook her head, glaring back at Rhea with cinders smoldering in her gaze. "No. You've kept too many secrets for it to just be that. You're _scared_ to tell me."

Lady Rhea's gaze assessed Yuri's presence for a moment, aware that this conversation had an audience. "I would not keep anything vital from you." Yuri frowned at the lackluster diversion. It was clear that whatever information Byleth referred to was very "need to know" exclusive. It was also clear that Byleth herself did not make that list in Rhea's eyes.

"No. I'm sick of this. I will not wait until something worse happens and I cannot stop it due to my ignorance. Why could my mother's heart give me life? Why do I lack a heartbeat? Why can I wield the sword of the creator? I deserve to know."

Head shaking in disappointment, Rhea's expression was almost annoyed. "Enough, Child. This is not the time nor the place. Let us return to the monastery and-"

"Is the truth so terrible that you fear anyone other than me hearing it? Is it so damning?!"

The low roar of their professor's frustration carried enough to draw the attention of the others, their merriment turning to silence in a breath's span. Yuri fought the urge to reach out a hand to Byleth, to rein her in. It was unspeakably foolish to raise one's voice at the Archbishop. The penalty for disrespecting her was very often death. Something kept repeating in Yuri's mind and stayed his hand though. A heart that did not beat yet sustained life. Two crestless parents birthing a child with the Crest of Flames. A relic without a crest stone. The more the facts turned over in his head, the less sense they made. Too much of this mystery seemed connected to his own. For how did one attain a lost Crest from nowhere? If the Church hid the reason...then this wasn't just Byleth's fight. It was all of theirs.

"Oh, I agree, your Eminence." Yuri kept his voice smooth and dripping with the false lit of boot licking that worked oh so well on nobles back in Faerghus. "The Church of Seiros is, after all, a noble entity. Surely it can hold no secrets that would be of much consequence. For to do so would be against the notion of doing the very best for Fodlan, would it not? Therefore, it should be a simple matter to answer such questions."

Rhea's glare sent a shiver down Yuri's spine, but he held his chin up high, maintaining an air of innocence as best he could. His eyes briefly met Byleth's to assure her that he was on her side. The look he received in return was... complicated. Less than a week in her presence had taught him a fair bit, but Yuri still had no earthly idea how to interpret that gaze.

Before their tense argument could continue any longer, a shadow fell swiftly over the chapel grounds. Too swiftly to be just a cloud. And that noise...

Hilda's startled scream stole the breath from his lungs. Eyes flying skyward, Yuri's blood ran cold. It was...some object, a lance? No, thicker than that. Immeasurably large and falling from the sky like an arrow. It made no sense but it was readily apparent that whatever the hell it was, it was going to land on them. And if it did....there would be no survivors. 

"MOVE," Rhea roared, dragging them out of their frightened stupor. "GET TO COVER! THE UNDERGROUND PASSAGE WAYS! HURRY!!"

The academy students and other Wolves scrambled immediately, piling onto the horses, Constance's Pegasus and Claude's wyvern and tearing off towards the entrance to the caverns as quick as they could manage it. Rhea raced after them crossing the terrace with speed that would have shocked Yuri if he had been paying attention. His frantic mind screamed at him to flee but his eyes stayed locked on Byleth. Her eyes held no fear in them. Her gaze at the monstrosity coming to murder them was at best thoughtful, at worst curious. They had no time for curiosity though. They could ponder the origins of this menace when they were safe. 

There was not enough time for the two of them to sprint across the entire chapel grounds to where the others had fled. They had too far a distance and the ground was already starting to tremble as the...javelin, for lack of a better word, drew closer. Despite the warning bell ringing in Yuri's ears, screaming that self preservation was paramount here, his body again denied his rational thoughts. Taking one of Byleth's hands in his own, he made a run for the lining of the trees. Her distraction did not prevent her from chasing after him, tearing through the forest with no care for the injuries that had yet to be healed, nor the new ones formed by the sting of sharp branches slicing at them as they fled. The blood pounding in Yuri's head and the sweaty, calloused hand in his were all he knew as the light from the foreign object illuminated the land in a frightening glow. His lungs and eyes burned but he held tight to the hand in his own. _Don't let go_ , he told himself, nonsensically. _Don't let her go_. 

Vaguely, Yuri remembered realizing that the forest ending ahead of them was actually a cliff. Around the same time, the impact of that huge javelin of light sent a shock wave through the entire forest. Their only option was to jump. The ground shattered as they sprinted and the sound of splintering trees around them drew closer and closer until suddenly all he knew was weightlessness and the agonizing sight of the sealed forest below rushing up to meet them. A cutting gale spell left his lips but he could not hear himself cast it. The last thing he could recall was feeling that precious hand slipping out of his own, panic, and then darkness.


	2. Vanishing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri huffed, "You mean to tell me you're sitting here nursing me back to health, not thinking at all about what happened or how to move forward? Come now, friend. I know you better than that."
> 
> This time the lull in conversation felt pregnant. Yuri could not fully imagine what it is she would want to say. There were far too many options. Before he could think to pester it out of her, Byleth started, "If you're really so dead set on it, I do have something in mind. It would be...comforting to not have to do it alone."

_"Mama?"_

_His mother's lips curled into a small smile, repressed so as not to smear the scarlet gloss she was lining them with. Other women, like the inn keeper, sometimes wore a bit of powder on their nose or black lining on their eyelids. But no one made such an art of it like his Mama did. Some of the girls at the tavern and on the street said that she barely looked like herself, hidden under all that makeup. Yuri didn't think that was true though. She was still his precious Mama. Even when he could see the rings under her eyes and the bruises on her skin._

_"Yes, my dove?"_

_Yuri pouted, clinging to her skirts. "How come you call me a dove?"_

_Ruby lips parted in a brilliant smile, a well manicured hand coming down to card through his hair. "The Goddess uses them as her messengers, remember? They bring blessings to those who are in need of them. You were a blessing to me, sweetheart. My little herald of peace." Yuri nuzzled his head further into her lap, nose wrinkling from the heavy perfume she always wore. But he would never say anything of it. Mama's hugs were worth an itchy nose. "Why do you ask, dear?"_

_Yuri huffed, looking up at her hesitantly. "Jev said doves are just pigeons. That they're dirty and gross like 'em too."_

_The hand in his hair paused, then resumed running her nails gently along his scalp. It felt nice. "Ah, I see. Does that bother you?" Yuri looked down at her lap, nodding and feeling guilty for it. His mama chuckled, lifting his chin up with her hand. When their eyes met again, hers were sparkling with a mischievous sort of glee. "Well, he is right in one way. They're the same type of bird. They just look different. Yet, when you ask someone what they think of a dove, most would say that they're beautiful. That they mean good luck and bring happiness. No one says that about pigeons. But they are one and the same. That, to me, makes doves amazing. Their deeds and their reliability sets them apart from their kin. Their beauty hides their true nature."_

_His chest tingled with warmth at the fondness in his mother's voice. The way she spoke of them, how could anyone ever question that his nickname was the coolest thing ever? Still, Yuri's lingering hurt bade that he wonder, "But they're not special then. Couldn't a regular pigeon be the Goddess's messenger too?"_

_Humming, his Mama grabbed him under his arms and lifted him into her lap, letting him curl against her. When he was settled, she sighed, "No one is really special. We're all just humans. We live. We die." She picked up a brush with some rouge on it and dusted his cheeks playfully. Yuri giggled, enjoying the way the brush felt on his skin. "All we can do is paint ourselves the way we want to be seen. Act the way we want to be remembered. That's what makes us special. We are shape shifters. We can be anything to anyone. Some of us, like me, can't fly very well. So I do my best here, where I landed. But you," she pressed a kiss to his head. "You are a gorgeous bird with huge, lofty wings. When you take flight and leave this nest, all will look at you and think, my how lovely he is. How special. Be a dove, dear heart. That way, after awhile, you'll never have to prove yourself again."_

_"How though, Mama?"_

_His mother grinned at him in the large mirror, applying the rouge to her own fair cheeks. "How else, little dove, but by shape shifting? Decide what you want to become and paint that image onto your skin. No one need know you are but a pigeon's son. That can be our little secret."_

_Settling back against her chest, Yuri smiled. "I don't think you're a pigeon, Mama. But even if you were, I'd still love you."_

_His mother placed another kiss to his hair, squeezing him tightly. "That, my dear boy, is all anyone could ever hope for. For someone to see who they are without the paint and love them anyway." Grabbing another brush, she continued putting on her makeup, letting him stay happy and warm in her lap. As she worked, she hummed a tune, gentle but melancholy. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the warmth of her embrace, losing himself to her melody._

A dull throbbing in his left leg crept into the forefront of his mind. His mother's humming morphed slowly into a different song, one he had never heard before. The hands in his hair caught on a tangle, tugging him further into awareness. Despite the attention being nice, the nails on his scalp were short, clumsy, not at all like his mother's. Yuri shifted, the ground beneath him uncomfortable beneath his body, which ached more and more obviously as he woke. Yet, his head was still pillowed on a soft lap.

Whose though? Cracking his eyes open felt like a momentous burden, causing his headache to protest and his stomach to churn. Before the shock of pain could make him retch, a warm tingling sensation coated his head, radiating relief from the fingertips at his crown. A heal spell. The caster was a bit more talented than he was at this. For him, medical magic was a quick and dirty thing. Stop the bleeding, fix the bones just enough to keep fighting. A slow infusion of the magic into his skull, curling pleasantly down his spine to his aching muscles, meant that his pain was not just managed, but eradicated at the source. There was no telling the extent of his injuries at the moment, he was far too weak to take stock of himself, but without the sharp sting in the forefront of his mind, he could at least take in his surroundings.

It was day still, likely encroaching on dusk given the red hues trickling in through the trees. Yuri tried to recall what time it was when he last could remember. What had he been doing anyway? They had been in those old chapel grounds after fighting...

Oh. Right.

Urgency swept back into his mind all at once. That thing...the javelin thing, whatever the hell it was. They obviously cleared it's path, just barely, by going over the cliff. Who was to say it was a solitary occurrence though? Should another strike here, they'd be sitting ducks. Worse, Yuri was quite positive that he wouldn't be able to make a run like that again even if he needed to. Before his thoughts could spiral any further, a cool hand rested itself on his forehead. 

"Shh. It's alright. I think we're safe. For now. Rest up and then we can worry about our next move."

Letting out a deep sigh, one that Hapi might have smacked him for out of pure jealousy, Yuri wet his dry, cracked lips. "What steps does one even take against a threat like that?" His voice was but a rasp, quiet and painful.

"I'm pretty sure discussing that isn't resting," Byleth commented, words all snark but tone gentle and airy. Almost as if she were half asleep herself. 

Yuri huffed, "You mean to tell me you're sitting here nursing me back to health, not thinking at all about what happened or how to move forward? Come now, friend. I know you better than that."

Byleth hummed in acknowledgment, but did not reply otherwise. It was as good of a admission of guilt to his accusation as he would receive. They laid in companionable silence for awhile, Byleth stroking his hair idly, Yuri still a dead weight in her lap. Normally, Yuri would have sprang upright and demanded they get moving immediately. Standing still wasn't his thing unless he was lying in wait. He wasn't sure if it was the remnants of his dream making him soft and plaint or maybe just the unique situation. Yuri was not a man who dealt in innocuous physical contact. Not anymore. If he was choosing to touch someone there was a purpose behind it. Illicit pleasure, illicit pain, illicit answers. All three were weapons he wielded expertly. Even in the heat and desperation of sex, he was not known for unnecessary movements. And sure as hell not for cuddling or basking in the afterglow. Sex, like everything else in his life, was a transaction. But this? There was no intent behind this. Byleth could have just as easily healed him then left him to his own devices. Even a proud man like Yuri could admit that he enjoyed this simple, free affection. 

That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and repay that kindness though. 

"Are you hurt?"

"Yes." Yuri jolted at the frank admission. Again, Byleth's hands moved to soothe him before he could sit up and agitate his own injuries. "I've closed any large wounds and my ankle isn't broken. The sprain is an easy fix."

A thought occurred to Yuri then. "Did you carry me here with a sprained ankle?"

From his place in her lap, he could see her lips quirk into a small but amused smile. "Sort of. I had to dig you out of a bush first. But I didn't move you far."

Groaning, Yuri raised a tentative hand to his face. Sure enough, there were tiny scratches all along his prized skin. "Great. I probably look like a rag doll. All scratched up and disheveled."

"I figured your broken ribs, shattered femur and concussion were more important items to heal. But I did pick the twigs out of your hair, if that's any consolation." 

His breath caught in his chest at the description of his injuries. It wasn't unexpected, truly. They had jumped off a very high cliff into a forest. How many trees and branches did his body ram into on his way down to the ground? It was honestly a marvel that he was alive in the first place. Equally so that he escaped with so few major wounds. His rib could have pierced his lung. Had he not landed in that bush, the fall could have broken his spine. Surely, it was a testament to his extreme and uncanny luck that they'd both walked away mostly unscathed. Admittedly, it did make him feel a bit childish to complain about cosmetic blemishes when the alternative could have been losing his ability to walk.

Yuri caught one of Byleth's hands in his own, tugging it down to press his lips gently against her knuckles. He felt Byleth jerk beneath him and reveled in the small victory of shocking a reaction out of her. "Thank you," he whispered against her skin, just loud enough for her to hear. "That's two debts I owe you now. Makes my skin itch. Gotta find a way to pay you back or I'll go nuts." 

"You're the only one keeping score, you know," she reminded him, voice low as well though there really was no need for it. It maintained the air of intimacy around them.

Yuri smiled, closing his eyes again. How many years had it been since he had felt anything like this? Who was this woman who quite literally charged into his life and made him so... vulnerable in her presence in only a week's time? His survival instincts must have dulled considerably because this should bother him. He should be itching to run his blade through her throat. But he didn't. The very idea sickened him, actually. How strange. Maybe one day he would be able to explain this feeling. For now, he was surprisingly content not knowing something for once. "Humor me, will you?"

This time the lull in conversation felt pregnant. Yuri could not fully imagine what it is she would want to say. There were far too many options. Before he could think to pester it out of her, Byleth started, "If you're really so dead set on it, I do have something in mind. It would be...comforting to not have to do it alone."

Yuri peeked an eye open to admire her expression. So serious and grim. After the week they'd had, any path they took would be one to approach carefully. "I'm all ears, friend."

"Well, I've been thinking..."

-x-x-x-

Garreg Mach had always been a stressful place for Hapi but the past few days had been a whole new level of anxiety inducing.

That wasn't even including being faux betrayed by Yuri-Bird, almost being ritualistically murdered by Aelfric, and then fighting a hellish chimera the size of a two story house to the death. She had an entire other compartmentalized anxiety box for that fuckery. This was something else. No one quite knew what to call the giant thing that fell on top of the chapel grounds after their battle with the Umbral Beast. Most settled on "javelin of light" but no one seemed happy with that description. Coco had been beside herself for a full day, postulating over whether it was magic or just a very large weapon. The Archbishop had sadly quarantined the area so she couldn't even really get a good look at the site of impact. All anyone seemed to know was that it leveled the entire area where it hit and that it came very far away. Lady Rhea herself seemed to know what it was, if what Didi and Linny heard could be trusted. Evidently she and Seteth were discussing how it "should have been impossible for them to strike anywhere near Garreg Mach." 

To her, that only meant that Garreg Mach likely couldn't get hit by one of those things. At least, not the monastery itself. The chapel wasn't exactly more than a stone's throw away so the prospect of that protection not extending passed the sealed forest was worrisome to say the least. All anyone on the surface or in Abyss wanted to talk about was how frightening such a weapon was and who could have possibly used such a thing. 

All Lady Rhea seemed to care about was that Chatterbox and Yuri-Bird were still missing.

Hapi remembered the mad dash to the tunnels, how the blast collapsed the entrance so far in that it almost crushed them (and would have if not for Lady Rhea's crazy magic skills). When they did a head count after the ground stopped shaking, it was Claude who first realized that Chatterbox was not among them. He and Pinky had gotten pretty worked up over it, sure, but no one more so than Lady Rhea herself. The moment they reached a branching point for the tunnels she was shouting orders to deploy all the Knights available to search for their lost professor. Baltie had kicked at the dirt, expression furious and hissed under his breath that not a single person so far had mentioned that Yuri-Bird was missing too. 

And that was how the last two days had gone. The rumor mill swirled about the javelins of light and what they were. The Knights searched frantically for Chatterbox. Not a soul found a trace of her or Yuri-Bird. Coco played at not being concerned (though Hapi knew she had cried herself to sleep the first night), claiming that if neither had shown up individually yet, it must have been because they were together. The idea seemed to cheer up Baltie at least.

"Hey! That means there's nothin' to worry about. Our boss and the professor wouldn't dare go and get killed on us. If they're together, then they're definitely ok."

It was a nice thought. Yet, it still didn't explain where they were, if not the monastery.

Some of Yuri-Bird's birdy thieves had made it their mission to sneak around the surface gathering information for them. It was nice because any time that one of the former Wolves went surface side to check in on things, the Knights stared them down like they had committed a crime. Maybe that's what they thought, Hapi acknowledged. From what anyone else could tell, Lady Rhea had been getting a bit... uncharacteristically frustrated lately. Who was to say she didn't assume that Yuri-Bird had done away with Chatterbox or something dumb like that? It was on their third day back in Abyss when one of their scouts gave them some solid news.

"Good news: The Boss and professor ended up in the Sealed Forest. The Knights think they might'ave jumped off the cliff given that the trees are super messed up in that area. Bad news: they're not there now. And wherever they went, they didn't leave tracks."

"Oh excellent! I knew our crafty trickster and daring professor wouldn't perish on us so easily. Why the idea was just preposterous from the start!" Coco grinned joyously at the news, fanning herself.

Baltie frowned, scratching his head. "Yeah, but how come they covered their tracks? I know the Boss is like...the King of Careful but isn't that a bit dumb if they're hoping to be rescued by the Knights?"

Hapi shook her head, "Maybe they don't _want_ to be found."

Coco and Baltie looked at each other, then at her, but said nothing. 

"Uh, yeah, about that," the scout hedged, looking troubled. "There's something else too. Something the Knights are probably being extra careful to hide."

Coco huffed, "No need to build anticipation, you knave. Explain yourself!"

"The Knight who reported that to Lady Rhea was executed."

Baltie's jaw dropped, his words coming out as a jumbled stutter. "W- w, uhhh, executed? Why the...for what?"

"For being the bearer of bad news probably," Hapi guessed gravely, arms crossed over her chest. "She's not exactly all there right now, if you haven't heard."

The scout nodded, "That's what it looks like at least. Someone said they heard her say 'bring me the girl' after but I don't know if that's a direct quote or not."

Looking a bit sick to her stomach, Coco nodded slowly. "I...see. Thank you for your report. You're dismissed." When they were sure that the scout that turned the corner, Coco raised a hand delicately to her mouth. "Well this is certainly...troubling."

"We have to find them before the Knights do," Hapi asserted, fighting the urge not to sigh becoming very very difficult. "Lady Rhea isn't in her right mind. The way she's talking about Chatterbox is obsessive, not concerned. We gotta warn them at least. And maybe find out what the hell they're up to."

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Baltie agreed, "Yeah. And who knows what Rhea'll do to the Boss in this state? Geez. This fucking sucks."

Coco straighten her shoulders and tipped up her chin, flashing a feral smile Hapi wasn't used to seeing on her. "Well then, let's get going. I, Constance von Nuvelle, in all my brilliance, have come up with a spell perfect for such an occasion. We'll need items belonging to each of them, ideally something they'd touched recently. But then I should be able to track them down posthaste!"

Baltie grinned, "What? No way. Damn Constance, that's cool as shit. You and that magic crap really are awesome sometimes, ya know?"

Coco puffed up under the heavy, unfiltered praise. Her dainty laugh carried through the halls as she set off towards Yuri-Bird's room. "Too true. Go on, shower me in more praises. No need to be shy!"

Hapi bit her lip against a mighty sigh. This whole situation felt far more dicey than one would expect. Just one thing right after another. Who was to say that they'd even be able to come back here once they found their friends? If not, what would become of them? Of Abyss? Gods, she really wanted to waltz up to the reception chamber and let out a fat sigh, but she couldn't. Or... shouldn't. Hapi took in a big breath. In. Out. In. Out.

"Ok...let's do this." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang y'all. I really appreciate the feedback I got on the last chapter. In writing the outline for this fic, it may become a bit more of an intense project than I was expecting at first. But I really like the direction I've settled on so I'm still down to accept the challenge.
> 
> For timeline purposes, I'm imagining that the Cindered Shadows DLC takes place right after the Miklan fight during the Verdant Moon. This would be inserted before we figure out Flayn was kidnapped (which is for a reason I promise), so that's a bit of a canon deviation. This story would begin directly after it. 
> 
> Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the characterizations and story thus far. Thanks for reading :)


	3. What it is to be human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've been wondering something," Yuri began. "Is...it true that your heart does not beat?"

Since she had been a little girl, Byleth had mastered the art of being alone.

Jeralt, patient and kind as he was, was not the doting and affectionate sort of father that the tavern girls and passerby thought he would be. Her first time watching a young boy in a town they stopped in scrape his knee and receive comfort and kisses from his father confused her. Byleth had done far worse than scraped knees in the past. Broken bones, large gashes, a concussion or two, severe dehydration. The mercenary way was to be self sufficient, always. Jeralt and the other men in his troop would show her how to tend to the injuries herself, then watch from afar as she went through the motions. Such a detached way of mentoring a small child had shocked and disgusted a fair share of mothers who happened to be around to witness it. _The poor thing is still a kid, not yet a mercenary,_ they'd say. _Show her some love._

Byleth had never minded being left to her own devices, though. In fact, it was often easier. People were interesting to her, but complicated. Her uniquely apathetic view on the world made it easy for her to give unbiased advice, so helping other people with her sword or her mind felt fulfilling. But, when anyone would turn around and attempt to insert themselves into her life? Unwelcome. While she had never outwardly expressed the thought, she got the feeling her demeanor portrayed it excellently. Jeralt's mercenaries would welcome her into their circle if she sat down but would never go out of their way to invite her. Jeralt himself never sought her out unless it was about their mission or plans. When she spent those few years training under Madame Zostra in Rusalka, learning to sneak and kill from the best assassin in Fodlan, no one, be they student or instructor, spoke to her without reason. Madame had offhandedly mentioned to her once how strange it was that a girl her age could be so barren of emotion, pain and affect. It made her a remarkably efficient assassin, but a poor woman. Or so she was told. 

Now, knowing what she did, Byleth thought of it more as a chicken and egg paradox. Which came first: Byleth showing no emotion to the world or everyone around her keeping their emotional and physical distance?

Her short time teaching at Garreg Mach was the first time anyone had ever tried to get to know her. Claude was the first. Back in Remire, Byleth could feel his keen eye on her during ever step they took. Once they had bullied her and Jeralt into returning to the monastery with them, it was a simple thing for him to sidle up next to her and blast off question after question. The one thing that bothered her about it, still bothered her honestly, was the look in his eyes when he spoke with her. A smile so dashing and warm paired with eyes that were cold and calculating put her on edge immediately. Claude put so much time and effort into unraveling her secrets, yet dodged all attempts at reciprocity. Still, even if he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her and acted like she was a human puzzle box, it was...nice to have someone ask after her. The other Golden Deer were equally, if not more interested. Leonie asked so that she could find some way to one-up her. Hilda did to distract Byleth from asking her questions. Lorenz did to assert his gentlemanly air and maybe get some praise. But they still asked.

Despite all that, there was still a clear degree of separation between her and the Deer. Byleth was their teacher, they were her students. It wasn't equal. The entire goal was to lead them well enough that they could leave Garreg Mach and become something great. In all her life, no one had ever treated her as their peer. 

Until Yuri Leclerc.

The first obvious difference was that Yuri was no innocent doe eyed teenager. While the manicure on his nails was impressive, the callouses on those hands told the story of a man that had been wielding a blade for about as long as she had. And he obviously knew how to use it. Byleth knew this because she had fought him herself. The balance any swordsman needed to make was between speed and strength. One could build both up to a certain degree but to really excel at one, the other had to be sacrificed. Byleth had chosen strength when she was learning. Yuri had chosen speed. It made for an interesting match up. Yuri's fighting style was so graceful for a man that had learned in the streets, among bandits and thieves. Dart in, quick stab at places that would decrease the target's mobility, then dance away. Byleth remembered thinking back then that Yuri had mastered the art of weaponized beauty.

So, when Aelfric suggested that Byleth become their professor, the Wolves weren't the only ones that found that notion ridiculous. Instructing the Golden Deer did honestly feel like teaching. Their motions were awkward, most of them were had only touched the basics of their trades. Byleth had to show them how to build a fighting style off of their various foundations. The Ashen Wolves needed no such guidance. Constance was startling in her magical proficiency. Even Lysithea would have notes to take from her. Balthus hit hard, sure, and fast enough, but mostly he excelled at hitting where it hurt the most. Hapi was balanced, making up for her lack of sheer power with impressive range. She could make suggestions, help them learn anything they didn't already know. But in truth, most of them could actually teach her a few things.

Yuri knew it too. Shortly before their search for the Chalice of Beginnings, Yuri had thrown her a training sword with a wink. "It's time for a lesson, _professor_ ," he had purred, voice dripping innuendo and mockery. He wasn't doing this to learn. He wanted to humiliate her, establish dominance in their relationship. Something about his cocky smirk gave her tongue a bit of an edge.

"So eager to lose again, Yuri?"

Pale lavender eyes narrowed at her quip. He twirled his blade across his knuckles, dropping into an attack stance. "Careful now. Underestimate me and I may be the one teaching you a thing or two."

Their spar wasn't the same type of one sided spectacle she saw with Leonie and Felix. Despite his smack talk, Yuri was a pro at keeping his cool. His nimble weaving made him annoyingly difficult to land a hit against. Yuri landed a gentle wack against her thigh before she could manage to match his speed. And unlike most of her students, he didn't let that small victory distract him. Even when she did finally land a savage blow against his rib cage, he grinned at her through the pain and gave as good as he got. Once, he slid a leg between hers, knocking her off balance and onto the floor on her back. She managed to raise her blade to defend against his, poised to meet her throat. Yuri used the entirety of his body weight, heaving from exhaustion, to press his assault. Byleth could only explain the sultry, hungry expression on his face as enticing. A completely foreign heat had torn through her as he leered down at her and cooed, "Had enough?" 

That tangled frustration in her gut had given her enough energy to force him off of her and push her advantage when he struggled to get back to his feet. What Yuri did seem to lack was durability. Breathless and flushed, it was a simple thing to knock his blade away and pin him with her blade resting just below his chin. Byleth wasn't imagining how his pupils dilated when she tipped his head up to meet her gaze with her sword and retorted, "How about you? Had enough?" 

Yuri's usually flawless makeup was streaked from his sweat, eyeliner running and lip gloss smudged. It was somehow not unattractive. If anything, his disheveled appearance riled her up more. The man in her hold chuckled faintly, "You're _fun_."

_Ah_ , Byleth thought as she relinquished her hold and helped him up. _This is how Sylvain wants to make people feel._

Somehow after that she earned herself the title of "friend." Byleth wasn't sure that he meant it earnestly, but she definitely felt more welcomed into his circle from then on. From there, it was a blur of fighting and racing against the clock. Still, Yuri must have decided that he trusted Byleth just a little bit. It was her that he came to and secretly revealed his plans to betray Aelfric. He had placed his faith in her understanding the message and coming to save them. That trust endeared him to her. Made her feel like maybe she didn't have to be the perfect, special professor when she was with him.

"We should be able to cross the river over here," said man called to her, drawing her out of her thoughts. Neither of them was back to 100% yet, but they couldn't waste anymore time sitting around waiting to feel better. Especially not in their current situation. They had ground to cover and it had to be quick but stealthy. Being discovered and dragged back to Garreg Mach was not in the cards right now for her. Not anymore. Not after what she had seen.

"It may be a good idea to make use of the flowing water to wash up and fill our bottles," she commented, lowering herself gingerly off the high riverbank to join him. Yuri nodded to himself, immediately stripping himself out of his overcoat and boots. It was likely due to his time as a thief that he was so unconcerned by being so far removed from the amenities of Abyss. They were caked in dirt, eating whatever they could find or catch without making a mess, and this was their first real opportunity to bathe since they started out. Yuri's makeup had long since rubbed away from sweat and what little sleep they'd been able to get. If it bothered him that Byleth could see him like that, bare faced and reduced to just his instincts the way only roughing it in the woods and fleeing from pursuers could, he didn't show it. That was a point of great honor for her as well. Maybe they were both being honest now.

**You're quite fixated on that idea** , Sothis observed teasingly. **Whatever has you so enchanted by this man?**

Yuri's words to her came to her unbidden in answer. _"Let's not deny that there's a connection between us,"_ he had asserted, his confidence unwavering. Shrugging off her own coat and unlatching her armored bodice, Byleth thought that even if Yuri had been flirting to try and manipulate her back then, he was using the truth as a weapon. And he very likely knew that.

**Come now. I didn't take you as the sort to bend so easily just because a pretty face offered you sex.**

Byleth huffed to herself, amused. That certainly wasn't the case. If it were, she would have fallen into Sylvain's bed long ago. Or Dorothea's. Byleth wasn't exactly a stranger to sex. She just had never really enjoyed what she experienced of it. The problem with being emotionless was that some activities required emotion. Still, this was a bit different. Wading in the water, Byleth did not deny herself a glance at Yuri's toned, bruised back, glistening in the light reflecting off the water. The river had a chill to it, but even so, Yuri slicking back his wet hair made her feel flushed.

**Ah, I see. This is just the first time you've been offered sex that you actually want. I suppose you could do worse. He _is_ quite handsome...for a sewer rat.**

Rolling her eyes, Byleth dunked her head underwater. There were more important things to consider than her attraction to Yuri. It wasn't like she planned on acting on it. Besides, his very presence here was proof that this wasn't just a one dimensional fancy. Byleth could scarcely believe this was even about repaying her for healing him or helping him with Aelfric anymore. No one would willingly join her on such a dangerous journey for the sake of keeping tabs on debts.

At least, that was what she hoped.

After crossing the Airmid, they kept to the forests along the bank to shield themselves from flying scouts. It also provided them the best way of finding food and shelter. It wasn't all silence, but their topics of conversation had thus far not delved into anything too interesting. One night, as they finished up the remains of their dinner, Byleth found herself willing to change that.

"Is it weird that I'm enjoying this?" she wondered aloud one evening, where their modest fire was just starting to die down for the night.

Yuri's silvery eyes met hers across the flames. The light from the fire danced across his face, the scattered shadows made him look ethereal. "No," he concluded, after considering her question for a moment. "You're a mercenary. Those are the roots you grew up from. That part of you won't fade away just because you lived a cushy life with some noble kids for a few months."

There was something in his voice as he said that and it made her more curious than normal. "And you? What roots are you holding onto?"

Yuri redirected his gaze to his boots, a troubled frown upon his lips. For a moment, Byleth thought he would refuse her inquiry. "Just a poor, scared kid doing anything and everything to secure a place for himself in this world. Thief, beggar, noble, servant, mercenary..." his eyes rose to hers again, guarded as he near whispered the last one. "...prostitute. You name it, I've probably done it. Those are my roots. And no matter how nice it was living under the roof of Count Rowe as his play-pretend son, those roots never fully left."

Byleth nodded, thinking of the people she and Jeralt used to help. Not the ones with fat coin purses and empty praise. The ones who couldn't pay the usual fee for service. Desperate mothers in need of protection for her children, scared merchants just trying to make it from one city to the next alive, helpless kids with sunken eyes and pale faces. Those were the stories she remembered most. They were always so humble, so grateful. Being that close to death, famine, and poverty, Byleth had always felt like maybe, just maybe, she knew what it was to be human. 

"I wasn't always a mercenary," she found herself saying, almost surprised at how talkative she was tonight. "Jeralt actually left me in the care of Madame Zostra in Rusalka when I was small."

Yuri jolted, "The Black Widow of the Spider's House? That Madame Zostra?" At her nod, Yuri shook his head in mild disgust. "What the hell made him think an assassin's den was any place for a child?"

It wasn't surprising that Yuri knew of her. His underworld network had started in and around the Empire and Western Faerghus. Anyone involved in the criminal network of the Empire would know to beware the Madame and her Spiders. "I wasn't a normal child," she shrugged. "I can't remember very much from before Spider House, but recently I've begun to think the Church may have been searching for me. Jeralt probably realized it wasn't safe for me to be with him."

"Then he should have taken you somewhere that _was_ safe!" Yuri spat, lips curling up in a snarl. The fire cracked between them, sparks flying up into the air, rising with the smoke. Taking a deep breath and releasing it in a sigh, Yuri lamented, "That's what parents are supposed to do. Protect their children."

And yet, that wasn't always the case. Some due to neglect, some due to misfortune, some due to greed. Life wasn't kind enough to care about the way things were meant to be. The pair of them were proof enough of that. 

"I've been wondering something," Yuri began. "Is...it true that your heart does not beat?"

Ah. Byleth had nearly forgotten that Yuri had been present for that part. Though, if their positions had been reversed, she too would have found that a bit hard to believe. Most days, she didn't even believe it herself. "It's true," she admitted, watching Yuri carefully as he processed that bit of information. She would not blame him if he found that a bit too bizarre to bear. He wouldn't be the first and wouldn't be the last to distance themselves from her for discovering that particular secret.

**Don't be hasty** , Sothis chided. Byleth swallowed.

"It's not that I don't believe you...but I sort of don't believe you," Yuri laughed, shattering the tense air around them. "I honestly thought that Rhea was being metaphorical when she said your mother gave you her heart, but...." Yuri ran a hand through his hair, looking equal parts exasperated and amused. "Well, Aelfric turned into a giant monster and almost killed us so anything may as well be true, I guess. It's only as weird as everything else we've seen, yeah?"

Byleth smiled, relieved that her admission hadn't frightened him off. Though, at Sothis's scoff she admitted that Yuri was indeed made of tougher stuff than that. Her tone was light and airy when she joked, "You're more than welcome to check for yourself if you need proof."

It took her a minute to figure out why Yuri's face suddenly morphed into a visage of shock. His expression was almost comical, mouth gaping and eyebrows so high they hid behind his bangs. Byleth replayed the sentence in her head before eventually realizing that she had essentially offered for him to place a hand or his ear to her breast. Ah.

**Truly, your horniness knows no bounds.**

Byleth blushed, looking away. She hadn't meant it like that!

**So your desire to make him grope you extends even to your subconscious. That doesn't make it better, you know?**

Yuri chuckled, looking a bit more shy than she expected given his general comfort with sex. "Well since you asked so earnestly...may I?"

Byleth blinked in surprise, face still warm. "Oh, um...yes."

Eyeing her critically, Yuri rose slowly from his position and made his way to her side. Each step he took was deliberate but almost careful, much like when he was hunting with his bow. Though, this wasn't so far from that situation. Even Byleth herself wasn't sure whether she'd bolt or not if he came at her too suddenly. Yuri delicately lowered himself to sit beside her, meeting her eyes again as if to silently ask if she was sure. Byleth nodded, turning to face him. Accepting her consent, he reached a hand across the gap between them to gently place his hand against the left side of her chest. His skin was cool against hers, making her shiver slightly. If her heart did beat, surely he would already feel it. Her pulse was racing, she could almost hear it drumming in her ears. Perplexed by what he was feeling (or not feeling), the man across from her bit down on his bottom lip in thought, reaching for her wrist with his other hand. There, she knew he would feel the telltale sign of life against his fingertips.

After a moment of investigation, Yuri looked at her, mystified. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know. Just one of the many things about me that makes no sense. No other relic functions without its crest stone, yet I can wield the sword of the creator. I bear the Crest of Flames yet Aelfric seemed to think my mother did not have a crest at all. All I do know is that Rhea refuses to tell me anything. And I'm not sure I can accept that anymore."

Yuri nodded, removing his hand from her chest, but keeping her wrist lightly in his hold. "And you think that you'll find answers where we are going?"

Byleth shrugged, "Maybe. Maybe not. What are my other options though?" Perhaps before Aelfric and the disturbing truth that Rhea had kept her mother's corpse preserved and outside of her grave for twenty odd years, Byleth would have been fine with waiting until answers came to her. But now? Now, she couldn't imagine going back and spilling more blood in the Church's name without some sort of reassurance that it wasn't morally wrong. "If you don't want to come with me, I would understand, Yuri. I know it may well be a fool's errand."

Squeezing her wrist, Yuri smiled ruefully down at his lap. "I appreciate you giving me an out, but I'm not just here to be moral support. Call me selfish if you'd like, but I get the feeling that the answers I'm looking for exist somewhere along this line of thought as well. I still have no idea how I got the my crest. My mother certainly didn't have one. And it is far too convenient to imagine that some member of a long lost line of Aubin would create a bastard child then disappear without a trace. There's something more at play here and I aim to find out what. And if helping me ends up helping you as well, that's just a win-win, right?"

"You don't mind helping a heartless monster?"

Byleth knew she was being self deprecating. Normally, she'd have held her tongue around such thoughts. Still, the weight of her own abnormality was suffocating her. 

Shaking his head, the man beside her gazed at the embers of what had once been their fire. Now, it was mostly the light of the full moon streaming through the trees that allowed them to see. "I've seen monsters before. Not just the type that Hapi summons either. Those that gather hordes of gold for no reason other than to covet it, that can sleep soundly at night after raping a poor girl then slitting her throat, those that would pit their own children against each other for amusement. Those people are monsters. But their hearts beat in their chest. I don't have the authority with which to decide whether the magic that brought you life made you...something other than human. But I do know this: I'd rather keep your company than almost any other person in the world."

Byleth had been so much better about using her words this night than normal, but the well ran dry at that moment. One day, she hoped she would have the words to describe what that meant to her. What Yuri's presence by her side through all of this meant to her. But for tonight, she offered him only a grateful smile. Yuri insisted on keeping first watch that night and as Byleth laid down to get some rest, her skin still tingled where Yuri's hand had once been. If such a chaste touch could get her blood pumping so, she could only imagine...

**"It's not like I plan on acting on it" my foot. Were you ever concerned about the concept of your humanity, be reassured: you are just as ridiculous and single minded as all other humans.**

Byleth smiled sheepishly into her rolled up cloak. That thought comforted her more than it probably should have.

The next day, they finally reached the first checkpoint Byleth had wanted to make. Three days quicker than she had imagined they'd manage on foot, while injured, without using the main roads too. The small tavern in the distance was mostly a dive for the local hunters and farmers of the area around the Airmid. In her few visits there, she had never seen Church officials or even merchants stop by. Breaking from the lining of trees, Yuri and Byleth picked up the pace, excited to spend an evening in a real bed and eat something other than rabbit and not-quite-ripe fruit. 

They had almost made it across the field when the beating of wings caught Byleth's attention. Eye's flitting to the sky, she searched for the source, unable to spot anything yet past the forest's bulk. Yuri met her gaze as the noise drew closer, accompanies by the clop of hooves against the ground.

Panic welled up in Byleth's throat. No. Not yet. She wouldn't go back there yet, at least not without a fight. Beside her, Yuri drew his bow, notching an arrow. He tossed her a tense smile and a nod. Byleth took a deep breath and drew her sword. They were of one mind then. Whoever their pursuers were, they would have two choices: leave or fall.

A single, familiar winged unit came into sight first, the rider spotting them instantly. "We finally found you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I certainly should NOT have written this chapter so fast. I've two tests tomorrow that I will almost certainly fail, but alas. When the muse visits, you do not deny her the pleasure of tea and your attention. Next chapter will have a bit more plot in it. For now, I'm mostly feeling out the characters and their vibes. I also would love feedback on how I've presented Byleth. I'm never sure if I characterize her well. (Also anyone who can guess where the name Madame Zostra comes from without googling it gets a cookie.)
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for all your comments and kudos. They'd made me so flipping happy its nuts. See y'all next chapter!


	4. Recontextualization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Foolish girl. Always saying such unnecessary things. It is doubtful that your companions will accept a deflection," Sothis scolded.
> 
> True. Even if her linguistic skills were more keen, she still wouldn't be able to talk herself out of this one. For a brief moment, she considered turning back the hands of time, but she felt more than heard Sothis's disapproval. Sothis only lent her the Divine Pulse in order to keep her allies and students alive in the heat of battle. Byleth knew using it outside of those circumstances was far too close to playing God. Besides, there was another thought running through her mind. Wasn't the entire reason she was doing this because she was sick of secrets? Yuri had already pledged his blade to her cause. If she concealed this from them, was she really any better than Rhea?
> 
> Sothis's presence gently proded at her. "So...what shall you do?"
> 
> Would you forgive me for this, Sothis?
> 
> Sothis smiled at her ruefully. "Poor little lamb, so scared and lost. Fret not, dear one. We are one in mind. I trust you."
> 
> Thank you, Byleth bid, chest aflame with complicated emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to The Plot. Or at least the beginning of it. Note the additional tags and rest assured that for any of you wondering whether I planned for this to be its own route with a separate turn of events, the answer is yes.
> 
> For the purposes of this, assume Byleth was the instructor for the Golden Deer. Current time is the beginning of Horsebow Moon, for anyone trying to compare to the pre-time skip events.

Flayn was missing.

Claude wasn't overly familiar with the girl. Seteth hovered over her like a storm cloud on good days so there wasn't exactly a lot of room for become best buds with her. A damn shame too. If anyone was going to leak him secrets from the inside of the Church's small inner circle, it would be Flayn. Secrets that had become more and more tantalizing the longer he stayed at the monastery. Tomas and the extremely well filtered library were the first in a long line of interesting mysteries. That wasn't even scratching the surface of all the inexplicable events that had happened in the last few months, though. Teach, the sword of the creator, its missing crest stone, the Crest of Flames, Sitri Eisner, the multiple ceremonies dedicated to reviving the Goddess, the beasts born of ancient magic mixing with poor unworthy fools...the list was too immense and only growing by the moment. Each new event provided more questions and no answers. It was absolutely infuriating. Were this a book, Claude would be tempted to skip right to the end just to let his poor mind rest. Alas, that wasn't possible here. His best bet was to find the weak spots in the walls surrounding the answers he craved and chip away at them until they cracked. The easiest option, in his mind, was Flayn.

But, as he said, Flayn was missing.

Seteth was positively beside himself. With good reason from the sounds of it. The most likely suspect was a fabled Grim Reaper. Many called him the Death Knight. Claude's memory of an intimidating figure cloaked in black astride a dark steed during the Rite of Rebirth still send a chill down his spine. Back then, they had repelled that monster's might narrowly due to Teach's careful instruction and uncanny sense of what he would do next. Had it not been for her...

There was no use in thinking of such things, Claude convinced himself. The time for hiding behind her coat tails was over. Those first few months had been...a luxury. Perhaps Byleth Eisner was a wrinkle in the fabric of the riddle he was trying to unravel, but she had also, in only a few scant months, changed the Golden Deer house into a skilled and capable task force. Quite the deviation from their disjointed first mission. Claude still hadn't put his finger on what exactly made her so charismatic a professor and leader.

And now he likely never would. Because Flayn wasn't the only one absent from the monastery. Teach had up and vanished after the assault on the chapel. At first, the pit in his stomach waited for the Knights to return with a body. The Golden Deer house had sat with bated breath, praying she'd return unharmed. He and Hilda had tried their best to convey their confidence in their teacher. To keep away the despair and mourning that threatened to swallow their classmates. But days turned to a week, now almost two. It had become shockingly apparent that their professor had not perished, else Rhea in her sentimentality would have held a funeral or wake or at least told Sir Jeralt. No...Teach was alive out there somewhere.

And she didn't seem keen on returning.

Part of him stung from the sense that she had abandoned her students, that she had abandoned _him_. But no matter how his heart ached over the perceived snuff, Claude was not the type to linger on disappointments like this. If he were, he wouldn't have survived back in Almyra. Back then he was all bloodied noses and scrapped knees that no one but him would tend to. His mother and father would chide him for wanting comfort rather than revenge. When he was weak and powerless. His parents' cold shoulder to his plight had felt like the most intimate betrayal of his life. Nothing since had ever ripped into him quite as savagely. It would take far more than this to break him.

Still, after so long with a trusted confidant to bounce his schemes and plots off of, it was debilitating suddenly being without one. Hilda had stepped up as his right hand, which he was eternally grateful for, but she still tended find clever ways around doing real work. With the rumors of a Death Knight on the monastery grounds, Flayn potentially in danger, and the constant chance of javelins falling from the sky to eradicate them all, part time attention just wasn't going to cut it.

"Claude, might we borrow you for a moment?"

Looking up from the book he hadn't truly been reading, Claude arched a brow at the unexpected sight of not only Dimitri, but also Edelgard standing over him. Ever since their joint operation in Abyss, his relationship with the Prince and Imperial Princess had improved substantially, but he would never go so far as to call them friends. Dimitri was far too straight laced and honorable to deal with his "anything goes" mindset. By comparison, Edelgard believed strongly in the idea of "whatever it takes" but still had that holier than thou vibe that just rubbed Claude all sorts of wrong ways.

"Well well, what a _pleasant_ surprise. What may I do for your Royal Highnesses?"

"You may drop the attitude for a start," gripped Edelgard, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Claude's eyes narrowed, but he kept his easy, cheery smile firmly on his face. "My most sincerest apologies for offending you, Princess."

"Peace, friends. Hold your bickering, please. This matter is too important for us to be deterred by personal grievances."

After a moment longer of glaring at him, Edelgard sighed heavily and nodded. "You are correct, Dimitri. As the House Leaders of the Officer's Academy, we have a duty to work together for the betterment of our housemates. Join us, Claude. We have much to discuss."

"I'm guessing I'm not allowed to know what's on the agenda until I say yes," he drawled, trying to not reveal how intrigued he was by what issue had brought the two together this way.

Giving him a tired smile, Dimitri explained, "I've taken the liberty of reserving a study room for us in the library. We can talk there."

He was tempted to point out that the library was likely one of the most heavily monitored location by the Church and its associates, but in the current state of the monastery, that likely wasn't true. Classes had been cancelled indefinitely. With the Knights mostly deployed, the professors were working overtime to keep the academy up and running at all. Sure enough, as they entered the library, it was eerily empty. No tests meant no studying and not even Tomas was around. When they settled into their seats in the small study room and the door had been satisfactorily locked behind them, Dimitri cleared his throat and addressed them.

"Seteth has asked the Blue Lions to locate Flayn."

Claude's brow furrowed, "Seteth did? Strange. I would think that Rhea would take charge of assigning troops to that aim."

Edelgard crossed her arms, expression grim. "Lady Rhea has indicated that there are no Knights to spare on Flayn's whereabouts."

What? "You're joking..." Claude had not always agreed with Rhea's choices, but he did feel that she had a moral code and a priority list. Just because it didn't follow his own, didn't mean it was absent. But this...

Dimitri appeared equally confused and far more tortured. "I agreed, of course. But I cannot help but worry over the state of the Knights at the moment. Flayn is so beloved by the Knights and the priests. For Rhea to deny Seteth any men to aid in his search for a girl she treats as family..."

"It's out of character. Her priorities are ridiculous." Edelgard asserted, tone severe. Normally, that judgmental stance would bother Claude, but in this case, he had to agree. "There is only a skeleton crew of Knights present at the monastery. Should anything go awry, the students will be left to defend themselves _and_ the Church. Only an extreme emergency should warrant that level of carelessness."

A silence fell over them. Dimitri's reluctance to meet his gaze and Edelgard's fury tapering off told the story of what was left unsaid.

"But instead, she's prioritizing searching for Teach rather than protecting us or finding Flayn. It's ok to say it. It's the truth after all."

Dimitri looked like a kicked puppy. It reminded Claude that he wasn't the only one who likely was missing Teach. "Perhaps she's just worried for her. Rhea has always regard the professor with affection."

"No. I don't buy that," Claude denied, pushing down whatever feelings he felt towards the topic in favor of being logical. "It's been a full week, Dimitri. Teach isn't lost, she's running."

Edelgard shared a look with Dimitri, then much more gently than Claude had come to expect from her inquired, "From what?"

Laughing humorlessly, Claude shrugged. "I honestly wish I knew."

Claude could count the number of people he actually trusted at Garreg Mach on one hand (currently, he didn't even need any of his fingers), but even he could admit that the afternoon he spent in that meeting with Dimitri and Edelgard was the most focused and surefooted he had felt in over two weeks. Dimitri may have been a stick in the mud, but he was reliable and extremely disciplined. With him on the job, they'd hunt down Flayn in no time. The Eagles and Deer agreed to lend their assistance to him in the search for clues. In the meantime, Claude and Edelgard agreed that their strengths laid in their ability to gather and sort through information. Edelgard was _surprisingly_ forthright in admitting that she had a spy network based out of the Empire that Hubert could use to monitor the coming and goings of those in and around the monastery. If they were responsible for protecting the academy, they may as well play the part. Claude did not have a well determined flow of information, but he was more than capable of doing some sleuthing himself. 

He started his search in Abyss. After all, Yuri's spy network was well integrated into the Church staff and surrounding territories. Surely, they would have heard _something_ worthy of noting. Claude wasn't sure if he was looking for information on Teach's whereabouts or just dirt of the deployment of the Knights. Any clue would be better than the whole lot of nothing they had right now.

It didn't take him more than a moment of asking around to find out something interesting.

"Sorry to tell ya, but none of the Ashen Wolves are here right now," the Abyssian gatekeeper explained, looking a bit sheepish.

Claude's eyebrows shot up in shock. "None of them? Not a single one? Huh. Well, do you happen to know where they went?"

"Sadly not. Above my pay grade. Actually...everything about this job is above my pay grade."

He could recognize a dead end when he saw one, as annoying as that was. Switching gears, Claude gave a dazzling smile. "Well, figured I'd ask you anyway. Teach mentioned once or twice how helpful she found you. Said you always had something new and interesting to report to her. Are you sure there's nothing at all worth knowing down here?"

Blinking, Claude could see the gears in the man's head turning. He muddled over the balance between falling to flattery and whatever sense of duty had sealed his lips for a moment longer before signally Claude to come closer. "Keep this between us, but the Boss and Miss Byleth are alive. The Knights are on the hunt for 'em in the Sealed Forest, but they lost the trail. Guess they're covering their tracks real well."

That certainly verified Claude's theory that they were evading the Knights. The only issue was that it made little to no sense. Even stranger...why was Yuri still with her? From what little he knew of the leader of the Ashen Wolves, he functioned on a payment based model. What business could he possibly have with where ever Teach was going?

Business....or perhaps pleasure? Claude's stomach clenched uncomfortably at the idea. 

"So Lady Rhea's going to expend as much manpower and time necessary to track them down and drag Teach back then. Makes you wonder where the fire is," Claude pondered mostly to himself.

The Gatekeeper scowled, "Honestly, for Miss Byleth's sake I hope she either never gets caught...or doesn't put up a fight."

That was an interesting thought. "Why would she have to?"

Claude didn't like the look of loss on the man's face. Dread built in his gut. "Well, we don't exactly know this for sure, but I overheard a couple of the Boss's spies talking and...the vibe I get is that Lady Rhea doesn't seem picky about whether Miss Byleth comes back in one piece or not."

The world was ripped out from underneath Claude's feet. His jaw worked mutely, unsure how to process that. "You think the Knights would _kill_ Teach?"

Leaning back, the Gatekeeper shrugged, expression near helpless. "Like I said, it's just a guess, but the Archbishop's already given one of the Knights the axe over this nasty business. This keeps on much longer and who knows what she'll do next." Clearing his throat and looking around, he corrected, "But you didn't hear that from me, got it, pal?"

Claude returned to the surface with an impending sense of doom. The monastery grounds looked the same as they always had. Green grasses, sunlight reflecting off the fishing pond, students laughing from the cafeteria. It didn't bring him the same level of contentment as before. He had always known that there were dark and wicked secrets lurking in the shadows of Garreg Mach. Now, those shadows were scarier than ever. Screw any petty disagreements they'd had in the past. He, Dimitri and Edelgard desperately needed to get a handle on this situation. Not just for Flayn's sake, but now also for Teach's.

Hell, their own lives might even count on it soon enough.

-x-x-x-

Perhaps the least known element of being a traveling sell-sword was that after wandering the countryside for weeks to months, tavern food, regardless how good, tasted like heaven. Realistically Byleth could acknowledge that this stew was mediocre at best, flavorless at worst. But it was still stew and had real beef in it. Thus, it was grand. It helped (a lot) that after endearing himself to the barmaid, Yuri had scored a small tour of the kitchen (spice rack included) and returned with pockets full of peppers, paprika, and a few cloves of garlic. The full effect of these additions was dulled, they really did need time to cook with the broth, but their presence was well appreciated. Though, Constance did haughtily hiss at Yuri for his offense of "thieving from their generous hosts."

Mouth half full, Yuri retorted, "It's not like they were using them anyway."

No one could argue with that, so they went back to happily stuffing their faces.

Byleth had always preferred meals where she could sit with good company. Jeralt and the mercenaries were always a lively bunch while they ate. Ness and Tasha always got into some contest or other involving chugging ale after a good contract. Jeralt had the ability to rein them in if he so chose, but he never did. Though she didn't ever feel the need to smile back then, she had always watched with some degree of amusement. Her students by comparison were reserved (for the most part). Lorenz would always gripe at the Deer to use the correct forks, not slurp their soup, or eat slower. That had no effect on seasoned food enthusiasts like Raph and Leonie, but the others usually listened, if only to silence him. Caspar was loud, but still had that noble posture and grooming in his genes. Felix inhaled his food quickly so as to get back to training, but if it was something he really liked, his eyes would drift close in pleasure for the first few bites. Food at the monastery was more about the chance to get to know her dining partners than her eating her own food. Sometimes, she contented herself with a cup of coffee or tea and the conversation of her pupils. It was nice, don't get her wrong. But it had also felt like if she had truly cut loose and ripped her food apart the way she wanted to, she would be given some scandalized looks.

With Balthus around, such thoughts were not important. Though the lining of his pockets was scarce, he easily spent what little coin he had on him on enough ale for all five of them to drink their weight in it. A fact that Byleth honestly appreciated after everything that had happened. Constance, once she had gotten out of the sun, had seemed miffed that their inevitable conversation had been put on the pause. However, as Hapi had explained, there was no point in having a difficult discussion when hungry and exhausted. Besides, it was very nice to see them again. Byleth knew she wasn't the only one who thought so. Yuri had lit up like a bonfire when they recognized Constance's Pegasus hovering over them. His words still had their same amount of sarcasm and sharp wit, but even just the way he held himself screamed how excited and pleased he was. Family was everything to Yuri after all. How many nights had he sat up worrying about them? 

Probably as many as Byleth stared out at the dark forest around them, consumed by the idea that she hadn't even said a proper goodbye to her students.

Warm from the ale and finally full, the five of them shuffled upstairs to the pair of rooms they had rented for the evening. Hapi had made Yuri the single happiest man in the entire world when she pulled out his makeup satchel. Constance tried to explain how she had used a spell to locate them using that bag and Byleth's travel pouch full of coin, potions and other important items, but Yuri had scurried off to "restore himself" before she could get more than a few words out. When he returned from a brief bath, eyes coated in that familiar smokey lavender, none of them could hold back their smile. Yuri Leclerc, the Savage Mockingbird, was back.

Once they were settled in the girls' room, Constance returned to the topic at hand, "As lovely as this reunion has been, I do believe we are owed an explanation."

Yuri met Byleth's gaze, seemingly assessing her comfort level. No matter how much he valued and appreciated his fellow Wolves, Yuri wouldn't speak a word of what they were doing without Byleth's acceptance. His discretion was well appreciated.

"You deserve one, yes," Byleth acquiesced. "Where would you prefer that I start?"

"Why didn't ya come back to the monastery?" Balthus blurted.

Constance waved him off, "What were those dreadful javelins of light? Were they related to the Chalice? Or Aelfric?"

Hapi looked up from her lap, expression troubled, "What were you and the Archbishop arguing over anyway?"

"Enough," Yuri chided. "One question at a time, yeah?"

Byleth huffed in amusement. "I'll just start at the beginning then."

So she did. Byleth told them about the story Jeralt told her about her mother when she was young, how Aelfric's own tale contradicted it so completely that it left her deeply unsettled. She explained what she knew of her crest and of the sword of the creator, where the gaps in the story Rhea told her were and why they bothered her. Though it was harder to work, Byleth also did her best to discuss what Rhea told her about her heart previously belonging to her mother. So many inconsistencies and bizarre coincidences tied together with at least two clear instances of people lying about how much they knew was reason enough for her to confront Rhea. By the stormy expression on all four of their faces, Byleth assumed they agreed with her.

"As for those javelins, as you call them," Byleth continued. "They are an ancient technology, powered by a dark, potent magic. It's not quite the same type as what fueled those creepy dolls in the Chasm of the Bound, but it's similar. The residue of that magic left a clear trail to the southeast. Thinking of the location, I think its somewhere in the mountains of Hrym. I intend to go there."

"Wait just a moment," Constance interjected, eyes wide. "Not to vaunt my own talents, Professor, but I have a mastery of black magic that is near peerless. My magical sensitivities are well tuned and I am almost certain that were your claim true, I too would have been able to trace this wicked sorcery. Yet I was unable to detect anything!"

Yuri rolled his eyes over the rim of the mug he was nursing. "You're _not_ going to flaunt your capabilities? Oh thank the Goddess. We are spared."

Before Constance could snap at the young man, Hapi sat up on the bed. "Can it, Yuri-Bird. I actually agree with Coco here. No offense, Chatterbox, but aren't you more of a swordsman than a mage?"

"I am," Byleth agreed. "And...I freely admit that it was not me that discovered this."

Even Yuri seemed confused at that admission and rightfully so. Byleth didn't have the magical know-how to recognize such a spell. Sothis, however, did. It was her that recognized the threat as it hurtled towards them. And also her that determined the source of said threat. The issue was that no one yet knew about the spectral being tied to her soul. Not her students. Not her father. Ideally, not even Rhea.

**Foolish girl. Always saying such unnecessary things. It is doubtful that your companions will accept a deflection. The rat-prince and peacock in particular.**

True. Even if her linguistic skills were more keen, she still wouldn't be able to talk herself out of this one. For a brief moment, she considered turning back the hands of time, but she felt more than heard Sothis's disapproval. Sothis only lent her the Divine Pulse in order to keep her allies and students alive in the heat of battle. Byleth knew using it outside of those circumstances was far too close to playing God. Besides, there was another thought running through her mind. Wasn't the entire reason she was doing this because she was sick of secrets? Yuri had already pledged his blade to her cause. She doubted the others had reason to use this information against her. If she concealed this from them, was she really any better than Rhea?

**So...what shall you do?**

_Would you forgive me for this?_

Sothis smiled at her ruefully. **Poor little lamb, so scared and lost. Fret not, dear one. We are one in mind. I trust you.**

_Thank you_ , Byleth bid, chest aflame with complicated emotions. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she addressed the Wolves, who were waiting with rapt anticipation.

"I have not shared this with anyone yet, so I ask that you keep this in strict confidence." When all four had nodded, Byleth continued. "When I first met Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude, they were being pursued by bandits. In order to protect Edelgard from their leader, I took an axe to the back. It severed my spine and...well, I died."

"What?" Yuri breathed.

Balthus frowned, scratching at his head. "Well, it obviously didn't stick. I mean, you don't look dead to me." Then, almost as an after thought, he griped, "You're not still dead...right?"

Chuckling, Byleth shook her head. "No. I'm alive. Or...as alive as something like me can be."

"Some _one_ like you," Yuri corrected, still looking puzzled. Byleth's chest clenched at his insistence that she was a person. 

"The moment I felt the axe connect with me, it was as if time had halted in place. I suddenly was both there and also somewhere else. A large room with a tall staircase and a throne. Atop that throne was a girl. She granted me her insight, sense of magic, and...the ability to turn back time."

Out of the four of them, Hapi looked the least surprised by this information. "So that's why you always seem to know exactly what the enemies are gonna do next. That's creepy. I dig it."

Balthus got a wicked grin on his face, "So this magic gal in your head...is she hot?"

"Vulgar!" Constance interrupted. "Honestly, you oaf, is that all you are capable of thinking of?"

"Oh come on, I'm just askin'!"

**I always underestimate how dimwitted you humans are. Truly impressive.** Byleth smirked to herself, finding it difficult to resist teasing her friend. **Don't you dare. Byleth, heed me. I-**

"Eh, she looks to be about twelve years old. Suppose you'd have to decide for yourself if you find that attractive, Balthus."

Byleth couldn't decide which tickled her more: Balthus's entire face scrunching up like he'd taken a bite out of a lemon or Sothis hissing curses at her in her head. Either way, Yuri bursting out into loud, mocking laughter made her laugh too. It felt nice, a type of relief she couldn't quite describe. This secret had weighed heavily on her shoulders for so long now. Being able to say it aloud and not be dismissed or persecuted for it lightened her mood considerably.

**You are among a band of oddities and misfits. I imagine you could confess anything to them and be accepted.**

Sothis was likely right. The Ashen Wolves were formed from those that the surface world shunned, a group of outsiders dedicated to protecting the one shelter they had managed to secure for themselves. It felt silly to worry over their reaction to her, knowing that they were well aware of Yuri's past, Constance's disposition in the sun, and Hapi's...ability and thought nothing of it.

When they had all calmed down a bit, it was Yuri that addressed them next. "So, that's the situation. Trying to draw answers out of Lady Rhea is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. That's why we are going to investigate where the javelin of light came from. Maybe we'll find answers, maybe we'll find a battle, or maybe we'll find nothing. But it's better than sitting around."

Hapi lifted up an eyebrow, "We? What's in it for you, Yuri-Bird?"

"Oh, you know me, Hapi. I _hate_ not knowing things. And who knows? Maybe this little expedition of ours will also lead to the answers I seek. About where my crest came from and why I, of all people, have it. After we get what we're looking for, we'll think about heading back to the monastery. Have a spot of tea with Her Holiness and ask for forgiveness rather than permission."

Balthus grimaced. "Uh, yeah, about that..."

Constance folded her hands into her lap, "It may behoove us to treat this matter surreptitiously. Especially where the Archbishop is concerned."

Yuri's eyes narrowed, tone grim. "Explain."

"Lady Rhea went off the rails nutso when you guys didn't turn up," Hapi explained. "She's sent every available Knight out on hunt for you guys. And apparently she killed one of her own when he delivered the news that you two hadn't been found yet."

"Lovely," drawled Yuri, voice dripping in anger and sarcasm.

Byleth closed her eyes, fists clenching tightly. That was exactly what she had been afraid of. Byleth had known what Rhea was capable of. The Western Church had suffered under the consequences of crossing her, after all. If her wrath were to extend beyond just Byleth...

"You should go get your mother, Yuri," Byleth declared, not looking up from her shaking hands. "Rhea said she had freed her from Aelfric, but that only means she still knows where she is."

There was a beat of silence. Then, she heard Yuri shuffle to his feet, placing his mug down on the bedside table. "Worried for her, are you? Heh. That's cute."

Byleth breathed a sigh out from her nose. "Of course I am. I have no intention of dragging you all and your loved ones into a mess I've made."

She could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "My my, doesn't that sound familiar?" A cool hand rested under her chin and slowly tipped her head up to meet his eyes. Sure enough, Yuri's glossy lips were quirked into a smug smile. His eyes, though, were full of a fondness that surprised Byleth. Yuri had made quite the striking figure back in the forest, bruises and scrapes bare for her eyes to see. They made him no less lovely, but he had flirted far less then. Byleth hadn't truly noticed it until now, how mellow he had been back when it was just the two of them. But this, this was Yuri in his element. He wore his confidence like a mask, devastatingly gorgeous and obviously aware of it. "I seem to remember a certain professor budding her nose into our business despite the risks. And now she's telling us to play it safe? A bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

Byleth wanted to say it wasn't her mother's life on the line, but in a sick, twisted way, it had been. She knew she had never been the most expressive woman, but she desperately hoped her conflicted look was enough to portray her thoughts to Yuri.

His smirk fell from his face, all hints of teasing gone from his voice. "I won't say I'm not concerned about it myself. I am. The Church of Seiros is not the kind of enemy anyone wants to have. I know better than anyone the underhanded shit they can pull. Which is why I took steps to relocate my mother to a safe house of mine right after she was freed. I did that before Aelfric's plan even came to fruition. That should at least give us enough time to finish this one errand. Then we can worry about our next steps. Sound fair?"

**Always the schemer, this one. Much like your little Deerling.**

Wasn't that the truth? With no further fight left in her, Byleth gave a weak smile, nodding against Yuri's hold on her chin.

Seemingly appeased, Yuri stroked her cheek with his thumb, then drew away from her. Turning to face the others, he placed a hand on his hip. "Well? What of you lot? None of you seem particularly excited to return to Abyss in the current state of affairs. Care to join us?"

"I'm in," Balthus replied instantly, reclining comfortably on the floor by Hapi's feet.

Hapi looked like she was about to fall asleep, but shrugged anyway. "Sure. Why not?"

That just left one. Byleth called softly, not wanting to startle the girl. "Constance?"

Said girl was pointedly looking away from her and Yuri. Byleth would have been concerned about her denying them if it weren't for the scarlet flush on her cheeks. Ah. Perhaps she had been bothered by Yuri's...intimate way of talking her into letting them help.

**Born of jealousy or embarrassment I wonder?** Sothis sounded terribly amused.

At Constance's lack of an answer, Yuri cooed at her, "Oh come now, Constance. These javelin things are the talk of the country at the moment. Imagine, Constance von Nuvelle being among the group that rid Fodlan of such a threat. Why, that would be reason enough for the nobility to reestablish your house, would it not?"

Constance glared at Yuri, "Silence, you panderer. I shall graciously lend my aid. You'd do well to express your gratitude. Often and without reservation."

Byleth smiled at her. "Thank you, Constance. I'll owe you."

Balthus sprung up from his spot on the floor, stretching his arms above his head. "Phew! Glad that's settled. I was worried things would get boring again. And not gonna lie, I sorta like the idea of the professor here being in debt to _me_ for once. Ha!" 

Pouting a bit, Byleth cleared her throat. "Actually, about that. I'm not exactly anyone's professor right now. So if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to just be called by my name."

Balthus blinked, but bounced right back with a grin. "Sure thing, pal! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go enjoy some more ale before the bar closes for the evening." Wasting no time, he saw himself out of the room. Yuri gathered his belongings at a more languid pace. Byleth didn't think she was imagining the way his eyes seemed to linger on her as he did so. Soon enough, though, he too was gone.

Curling up into a ball on the bed, Hapi mumbled, "G'night."

"I shall sleep in bed with Hapi, just this once prof- I mean, Byleth. Don't forget this kindness though! I want my own bed next time!"

Nodding, Byleth gathered the clothes she had borrowed from the barmaid. "Of course, Constance. Thank you very much."

Closing the door behind her, Byleth leaned her back against the wooden surface, wondering at her luck. Perhaps she was not the most religious soul, but she certainly couldn't deny that she had been blessed by such steadfast allies.

**Friends** , Sothis corrected sleepily.

Yes, Byleth thought. Friends. 

"Still worried?"

Byleth started, not having noticed that Yuri was still lingering in the hallway near the door to his and Balthus's room. He seemed the picture of ease, leaning against the wall with a lazy, almost tired smile on his face. Also very different than the cocky grin he had used on her back in the room. The many sides of Yuri Leclerc never failed to surprise her. Making her way towards him, Byleth shook her head.

"A bit, but I trust you. Just know that I wouldn't scorn you for changing your mind later."

Yuri's eyes roamed her face, as if looking for some contradiction to that statement. He would not find one. No matter how relieved she was to have him with her, she knew how much his mother meant to him. She wouldn't be the one so stand between him and protecting the most important person in his life.

Seemingly satisfied, Yuri's smile widened. "There you go being adorable again. Thanks for the offer, friend, but I won't be taking you up on it. Still have to repay you, after all."

Cocking her head to the side, Byleth murmured, "If you insist. I'm surprised you didn't mention that to the others, actually."

Yuri's eyes narrowed a bit. Stepping away from the wall and into her space, Yuri's hands came up cradle her face. Those deft fingers held her still as he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against hers. Byleth couldn't keep her breath from hitching. It was hard to get a good look at his expression, as close to her as he was. Somehow this felt more intimate than before. No matter how hard she searched, she could not find that same playful glint in his lavender eyes. Voice dropping to a low whisper, the man before her stroked the apple of her cheeks with his thumbs. "There are some cards I tend to play close to my chest. Memories, plans...moments of _vulnerability_." Byleth swallowed, lips suddenly feeling dry. "No matter how much I trust the others, I want _that_ to stay our little secret. For now, at least."

Were Byleth thinking clearly, she would struggle to identify what exactly about Yuri being injured would warrant such secrecy. They'd all been hurt before. Some worse than others. Alas, she was not thinking clearly, so all she could manage was a weak, "If that's what you want."

He watched her for a moment longer before retreating and releasing her face. The smile on his face was pleasant, but somehow...guarded. "Thank you kindly. I won't hold you up any longer. Enjoy your bath."

Almost in a fog, Byleth nodded. "Good night, Yuri."

That small, complicated smile stayed firmly on his face as he turned to enter his room. "Sweet dreams, Byleth."

Friends, Byleth reminded herself, face warm far before she ever stepped into the steamy bath. _Friends._

This was one part of having emotions that she could perhaps live without.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I survived! What a WEEK it has been. This chapter was written over the course of like 6-7 revisions and one complete restart so excuse any choppy scene connections. I did my best. I'm truly not made for plot and dramatic reveals, though I will endeavor to improve. 
> 
> In an effort to make sure you guys get your needs met, feel free to throw me a small prompt that you'd like to see my attempt to accommodate in the story. Could be something simple like "drunk Yurileth hijinks" could also be a plot point you think would be cool for me to explore more. No promises about whether I'll be able to, but I LOVE hearing from you guys and seeing from your POV on my writing, so hit me up.
> 
> Thanks so much for everyone who continues to read this hot mess. I love and appreciate you.


	5. The calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You truly do not fear death? You'd walk into a fight knowing naught of your enemy and content yourself on it being your choice to step forward. Is that it?" Constance eye's searched hers, disbelief apparent in her eyes.
> 
> "I don't fear my death," Byleth corrected. "But I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do not suffer the consequences of throwing your lot in with mine. I promise you that, Constance von Nuvelle."
> 
> Slowly, that incredulous look morphed into something more fond. Chuckling to herself, Constance gave her an honest, genuine grin. "Mayhap it is you that is amazing, Byleth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got way longer than I expected. But I think it's a good thing. My transitional scenes could still use some work, but I think the meat of this chapter came out pretty solid.
> 
> So, uh, I heard that y'all wanted to see some Jeralt? Like, basically everyone who commented did. And ya know, I also wanted to see some Jeralt. So here, have a little Jeralt. As a treat.
> 
> If anyone can pick up the reference in here to another game, you get cool person points.
> 
> Enjoy!

Planning for the trip ahead was always Byleth's least favorite part of traveling. Yet, it was also the most important. The mountains of Hrym did not have many settlements in them. Should they need potions, clothes, or rations, they may not find them closer to their destination. Thus, it was of upmost importance that they stock up while they could. The Wolves had brought a sparse amount of supplied when they departed Abyss. Two tents, a week's worth of rations (which was nearly gone thanks to Balthus's appetite), a first aid kit, and Hapi's sleeping bag. Yuri looked fit to flay his darling Wolves when faced with how poorly prepared they were, but they had coin enough to make up for it. Each of them were assigned things to gather in the market and they agreed to meet up again at the tavern before they departed.

Byleth returned to find Hapi already preparing her horse for the journey. With only two steeds, one having to fly, each of them would be responsible for carrying their own personal items. It limited what they could take, but that was just fine with Byleth.

As she knelt to organize her pack, a sharp cry gave her pause. The flapping of wings followed shortly after. When she turned, sure enough, a jet black falcon descended upon them. It felt like going back in time, bearing her forearm for the bird to land upon her gauntlet. Her months at Garreg Mach had meant communication came much easier. Any trained bird or foot solider could deliver a message for her to the monastery and be assured it would reach her. The days when she would sometimes set off on her own for months at a time necessitated a different approach. Jeralt's solution had been Styx, a well trained hunting falcon that had been a gift from a contact in Fhirdiad. The Blaiddyd Royal Family had used falcons to deliver war directives and sensitive information for generations. Though Lambert had long since passed, Byleth wondered if Dimitri would be happy to know that their tradition lived on in between the Eisners.

"Huh. And here I thought Yuri-bird was the aviary expert around here," Hapi commented, still chewing happily on the bun she had bought. "Do birds usually make you their perch or is this one just special?"

"Styx belongs to Jeralt," she replied, scratching the raptor's chin affectionately. "Sometimes, when I was on solo missions, Styx would be the only living soul that could find me."

"And it doesn't concern you that your dad, who works for Lady Rhea, has a surefire way of finding you?"

It was a valid question. One Byleth had not really considered before. Jeralt had been away from the monastery on a mission when Claude had first suggested they venture into Abyss. More than once after meeting Aelfric and hearing his story about her mother, Byleth had resisted the urge to stalk away and find him. Demand the truth from him in no uncertain terms. That tender spot, sore from being forced to acknowledge that her own father was among the list of those that had lied to her, still throbbed. Yet, she knew it must have been out of some misguided desire to protect her. Though he did not wear emotions well himself, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Jeralt loved her. In his own way. 

That did not mean they would not be having _words_ when they next met. But, her trust in him was only bruised, not broken.

"My father has no loyalty for Lady Rhea," she claimed simply, removing the note from the pouch at Styx's leg.

The piece of paper was small, even when unrolled. Jeralt's hand writing was sloppy, but still legible. The black ink he had used had smudged a bit, but did not impact the message. Or may that was just how much practice she had with his notes.

KFNN NOPM IREE GCRS HEMI TFIT SUTU DLTA IRET SEDI PLUO AOPN TCDA CAAS HTEA EIEP DOO

"Uh, what language is that even in?" Hapi frowned at her.

"It's a cipher," Byleth explained, writing out the four column message.

KNIGHTSDISPATCHED

FORCEFULRELOCATIO

NPERMITTEDUPDATEO

NMESITUATIONASAP

They had taken to using these ciphers after a contract involving a particularly vicious gang in the Empire. With several attempted assassinations in only a few months, Jeralt had thought it prudent to mask their communication. False notes, ciphers, burning any received transmissions, they had dabbled in it all. "Knights dispatched. Forceful relocation permitted. Update on situation ASAP."

"Forceful relocation? That sounds concerning."

Byleth nodded, burning the paper with fire magic. "It is. Here, hold Styx." Hapi seemed a bit nervous to have a bird of prey lounging on her shoulder, but did not vocalize a complaint. The important part of her and Jeralt's codes was that you should never reply with the same one you were sent. Overuse led to a greater chance of the message being deciphered. This one was easy because she didn't have much to say. She drew a circle and then a large X with a horizontal line beneath it. Those symbols were used in several of their hieroglyphic codes, but they only made sense together in this one. The circle for "I am whole" and the X for "hold your position". Once the note had dried and was hidden away on Styx's talon once more, Byleth gave Styx some dried meat and water, then sent the falcon off to return her response. 

In the grand scheme of things, Jeralt's warning did not change much about their plan. It only necessitated a bit more caution. While their battle armor was not as obvious as the uniforms the Ashen Wolves wore back in Abyss, they were still identifiable by them. There wasn't much they could do about a pitch black Pegasus, but Constance could cast a glamor on her wings to make them harder to recognize. 

As for them, so long as they were following the main roads, they couldn't risk being reported. They hid their leathers under layers of loose shirts and lounge pants and altered their appearances where they could. Byleth tied her hair back in a ponytail, covering her legs with a long skirt, though it annoyed her to do so. Ripping a slit up the side so that her legs weren't restrained helped instrumentally. Hapi and Constance swapped color pallets, which didn't look good but would prevent color associations. Balthus made the dire sacrifice of wearing a shirt. Yuri was a master of changing his appearance as he needed. A black ribbon to tie his hair back in a style not unlike Linhardt's, a blouse and some form fitting pants, highlighted with more bold makeup choices transformed him visually at least into a woman.

"Damn Boss," Balthus whistled. "If I didn't know it was you under there, I might've asked you to go a round or two with me."

Stowing his makeup case back in their bags, Yuri turned to Balthus with a smirk. "Sorry to disappoint you, my friend, but you'd have to take out another loan or two to afford it."

The older man luckily stopped himself before saying anything ridiculous like "you can add it to my tab."

With part of their party proceeding on foot, it was going to take them the better part of the month to reach their location. That, naturally, meant most of their evenings would be spent sleeping among the great outdoors. Roughing it was nothing new to Byleth and Yuri had gotten on fine enough when they were still in the Sealed Forest. Hapi and Balthus made no complaints the first night when they settled down and started making a fire. Constance, however...

"That is not a meal, Yuri. That is a rabbit! More suited to be a child's pet than food, surely!"

Yuri maintained direct eye contact with her when he snapped the rabbit's neck, smiling when the blond shrieked and covered her eyes. "How kind of you to volunteer to hunt for us tomorrow night, Constance! I am so excited to see what scrumptious, meal worthy ingredients you'll bring us."

Tears gathered in the girl's eyes, be they from embarrassment or genuine mourning for the rabbit, Byleth couldn't tell. Balthus sighed aloud when she stalked off.

Hapi glared up from where she was slicing some apples. "Way to be a dick, Yuri-bird."

Yuri slid his knife under the pelt of the rabbit, taking care not to bloody his clothes. "Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. The sooner she gets used to this, the better."

**Sounds like the stance you took with the little ones.**

Byleth remembered all too keenly their first mission together as the Golden Deer. Hilda's wavering smile had not been only due to making her get her hands dirty. Marianne's normally downtrodden expression had bordered on tortured. Leonie had rubbed Ignatz's back while he puked his guts up into a bush. For many of them, it had been their first time taking a life. But as with most things, practice dulled the agony of it. The quicker she could desensitize them to the sting of death, the more effective they would be.

Cruel to be kind, indeed.

Despite the red rims around her eyelids, Constance ate the roasted rabbit that night. And the next evening, true to form, she really did hunt for their meal. If there was anything Byleth could say about the girl, it was that she was adaptable.

In general, they figured out a system that worked for them all. Two single person tents were not nearly enough to contain five people comfortably. But, the tents were also stuffy and not particularly spacious even with the intended occupancy. Byleth had no qualms sacrificing the space to the others, using some rope and tackle generously donated by one of the farmers they aided to make a hammock for herself. Between that and her sleeping bag, she rarely found herself uncomfortable with her sleeping arrangements. Hapi, who favored the ability to wake before dawn and gaze up at the stars, followed suit without argument. Balthus would have slept on the bare ground every night so long as he had enough food in his belly. So the tents were naturally left for the only two that actually preferred them. The prissy princesses, as Balthus teasingly called them. And honestly, after Hapi accidentally woke Yuri up too early and got a shrieking earful, Byleth couldn't help but secretly agree with the denotation.

Unfortunately, like all generalizations, this one too had exceptions. Rain, they discovered, was a big one. None of them predicted the storm when they were setting up camp. It hit when the embers from their fire were still warm, shocking the three poor souls caught in it badly enough to take running leaps into the tents before they got too wet. 

Hapi pushed her way into Constance's tent, filling the air with shrill screams and curses from the grouchy blond.

"You. Are. Freezing. Unhand me at once, you miscreant!"

"Shut the fuck up and cuddle me, Coco," Hapi hissed just loud enough to be heard over the shuffling. 

Balthus cackled on the other side of the small tent, still working on slipping off his filthy boots. Byleth pressed herself tightly against the side she was next to. In the dark, she couldn't see Yuri, but she could tell he was awake by how tense his body was against hers.

**Why did you hop into the _boy's_ tent? You absolute disaster of a woman.** Sothis grumbled. Byleth elected to ignore her.

"Sorry for intruding, Yuri," she bid breathlessly. 

Yuri did not respond beyond a tired huff for a moment before growling, "Balthus stop squirming or you will get stabbed.

"It's fucking tiny in here," the older man complained, shaking the whole tent with his adjusting.

"Here, Balthus," Byleth half-laughed. "Put your arm like this, there you go."

It took them a bit to get settled. At some point Yuri man-handled her into the middle, complaining that Balthus's beer breath was legitimately going to kill him. Despite how warm it was with three bodies piled on top of each other, the ambient noise of the rain pelting the tarp above them eventually eased them all to sleep. Byleth woke with Yuri's leg between her thighs, someone's hand squished under her boob and Balthus snoring into her hair and couldn't imagine a single place she'd rather be.

It wasn't all growing pains, though. While they tried to not linger in one place for too long, they did occasionally run into merchants with a broken wagon wheel. Or a poster asking for help ridding an area of bandits. Since the Knights were less accessible for help, and seeing as though the needed a way to keep their skills sharp, the Wolves had no issue lending a hand where they could. Those charitable deeds very often helped them refill their supplies or let them hitch a ride further up the road. They reached the village of Trolde, the last known settlement before they were to venture up the mountains, a full week earlier than Byleth had anticipated. Trolde was also coincidentally celebrating the birthday of a village elder the night after they rolled into town. A feast with food aplenty, flowing wine, and music. Byleth knew that if she and Yuri even hinted that they wanted to maintain their pace and move out tomorrow morning, Balthus would have shed real tears and begged on his knees to stay.

"Fine," Yuri acquiesced, mouth quirked in an amused grin. "But I don't care how hungover you are, we're leaving the next morning. Crack of dawn, no exceptions."

Small towns were all so unique in Byleth's experience. Jeralt's troop was equally likely to be met with suspicion and hostility as they were to be welcomed like long-lost family members. Trolde was luckily the latter. There wasn't much in the way of trees to cast shade upon the fields, so Constance spent the day in the hut of the local herbalist, swapping trade secrets. Byleth and Balthus offered to help tend the fields with the men as thanks for allowing them to stay. The added strength of two capable hand to hand fighters made the work fly by and by lunch time, some of the gutsier farmers had sampled some wine early and challenged the pair of them to a series of arm wrestling matches. Balthus may have had shit luck, but he was a safe bet to win against any of his challengers. Byleth also remained undefeated, even against Balthus himself, which he blamed on his buzz. She graciously allowed him to delude himself, heading back to the village proper. 

On the way there, she stumbled upon Hapi passed out in one of the fields, sleeping contently while surrounded by the local stray cats. She briefly considered waking her and reminding her that there were better places to take a nap than the ground. But, she couldn't help but think to herself how much Linhardt would have loved to join her and thought better of it. The idea made her chest ache. Lin wasn't a part of her class, but he did always make a point to talk to her and she missed him just the same way as she missed all her kids.

Speaking of kids, Byleth made a point to stop by the school house in town. It was so rare for a small village like this to even have one. Apparently, the teacher grew up here, left to study in Enbarr, then moved back so that she could bring what she learned back to her home. Byleth didn't really define herself by her temporary role as a professor, but it definitely made her appreciate the woman's efforts more. It was hard rearing kids. To her surprise, she was not the only person visiting when she arrived. Even more surprising was how the kids reacted to the guest.

The children flocked to Yuri like birds to breadcrumbs. 

Yuri's womanly guise had been compromised, hair loose around his face and foundation barely clinging to life. The kids didn't seem to care one way or another. One of the smaller ones was nestled contently in his arms, with a girl holding his unoccupied hand like a prize, enthusiastically regaling him with a tale about a toad scaring her mother. Such casual touch from an adult would have earned someone a knife in between the ribs, but with the little ones, Yuri almost leaned into the affection. Her favorite part was undoubtedly the wide, tender grin upon his lips as he nodded along with the story and kicked a ball back to another group without jostling the dozing toddler in his hold. There were no airs to put up here. That loving expression was as genuine as they came. It was an unexpected delight.

**I am shocked to admit that the sewer rat would actually make quite the good father.**

A father? It wasn't as if she would have the best comparison in her mind. Her experience with fatherly love was very different than the free and abundant attention Yuri provided these kids. But wasn't that the point? The more she considered it, the more she could agree that childcare did seem to come naturally to Yuri. Though, she wasn't exactly sure why the thought of Yuri with babies of his own made her feel so warm.

Before she could make sense of the fluttering feeling in her chest, Yuri caught sight of her in his periphery. That smile turned a bit sly as he called, "How bout a game of tag, kids? My friend Byleth is _really_ good at it."

The children needed absolutely no convincing. And neither did Byleth.

It satisfied her deeply that the children welcomed her into their game with the same rapt gusto that they had Yuri. They certainly did not pull their punches, either. Last she checked, tag typically didn't involve trying to take out the person that was "it" with balls, yardsticks, and sliding kicks to the legs. It did make it a lot more fun though. Their underhanded techniques tickled Yuri enough to send him into frequent peels of incredulous laughter. Her companion had no shame about showing off his own athletic prowess, dancing artfully away from lunges, hopping clear over the kids' heads and even vaulting himself over the fence at some point. They played and played until all parties were drenched in sweat and the bell rang signalling the start of the feast. The still heart in her chest melted at how disappointed the kids looked. Yuri ruffled the hair of one of the boys and promised him a dance after dinner. That cleared up any gloom immediately.

How different would Byleth have been if her childhood been like this instead?

Dinner took place outside behind the alehouse. There was no way this many people could fit under one roof. They'd dragged tables and chairs from people's personal homes and all the surrounding buildings to make enough room for everyone to sit. Still, they were in pretty close quarters, bumping elbows to reach the stuff in the middle of the long table they'd made. Instead of claustrophobic, Byleth was enjoying the physicality of it. This was something completely new for her. Mercs would laugh, drink and play cards, but they were still on the job for the most part. Byleth knew she was a bit of a busy body. A couple days indulging in the peace they had today would be a welcome refreshment, but eventually she'd want to keep moving. Perhaps this small town mentality was something one could only experience from standing still. Whatever the case, being included in this huge family dynamic made her feel fantastic.

She wasn't the only one. 

Hapi, halfway through dinner, sniffled loud enough for her to hear it. In between bites of venison and mashed potatoes, there were tears that would roll down her cheeks every now and again. The woman made no motion to wipe them away. It was weird to think of but she felt as though Hapi was crying with a lot of dignity. Balthus was almost certainly drunk, but no matter how messy he was at it, the moment he looked over and noticed, he hastened to wipe his hands off and ask in a gentle voice if Hapi was ok.

"Yeah B, I'm fine. I'm...happy actually. My village is a lot like this. Guess I miss them more than I thought."

Byleth had no idea what to say to that. Luckily, Yuri had her back. "Well, when all of this is over, guess we'll have to escort you back. Think they'll throw a party too?"

Hapi's gentle laugh made them all smile. "Definitely."

It struck her later, once the dancing and music had started, how much that thought meant to her personally. Making plans for the future made it feel like this wasn't just a temporary arrangement. That was what Byleth had truly wanted ever since her emotions started to blossom at Garreg Mach. A place in someone's heart more permanent than "the professor I had during the Officer's Academy". A group to share herself with beyond just being mercenaries together. Byleth was far from religious, a borderline heretic actually, but she sent up a prayer to the Goddess, hoping that she would be able to keep this.

**You act as if you cannot secure this desire for yourself. Cease with your remarkably sad tendency to hang around the periphery of your own life. Go be with them.**

So she did. She was swept into dance after dance, a fast jig with Hapi, swaying artlessly with Balthus, some bastardization of a waltz with Constance. The villagers she had demolished at arm wrestling even offered her their arm. In the center of the space, Yuri was keeping his promise of teaching the little ones how to dance. To her surprise, he seemed to be singing to them. When she had excused herself from her current dance partner, she made her way over to him. He _was_ singing. And it was lovely. Twirling one of the young girls around on his finger, Yuri smiled like he had not a care in the world and crooned beautifully. Dorothea would have dragged him to where the band was playing and demand they perform a duet. Byleth chose to extend him a hand and ask him to dance. A flush spread across his cheeks at being caught, though she had no idea what was embarrassing about being a good singer, but he did take her hand and tug her against his chest.

It felt more like a hug than a dance, truth be told, but that suited Byleth just fine. She rested her head against Yuri's shoulder and wrapped one arm tightly around his waist. Yuri laid he cheek against the crown of her head and led them in a slow shuffle. Byleth thought about asking him to sing to her again, but given his reaction early, it may have shattered the tranquil calm between them. 

"I'm glad we stayed," Yuri announced, as the song the band was playing reached its crescendo. 

Looking up him, Byleth smiled, "Me too."

The look in Yuri's eyes was full of that fond quality again. Meeting his eye made Byleth feel like she was stepping into a warm bath. Just enough heat to make her pulse spike, but also very peaceful. Their faces were so close like this, Yuri abandoning their swaying to wrap both his arms around her back. Byleth found her one of her hands sliding his chest to press against the side of his throat. His pulse hammered against her hand, which she would have never guessed from how cool and confident he appeared. A small smile crept onto her lips. Yuri wasn't immune to this...whatever this was, either. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, Byleth was overcome by the urge to do something. The trouble was that she had no idea what. That want surged even more when Yuri's lavender eyes focused heavily on her mouth. His stare was almost tangible.

Before she could figure out what she wanted to do about that hidden desire of hers, the song ended and the crowd around them, which she had forgotten even existed until now, clapped and cheered. The realization that they weren't alone washed over her like a cool breeze. Yuri closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing her hips, then stepped away from her with that same, infuriating polite smile.

"I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Remind the others we're moving out at daybreak for me?" Byleth nodded, head still in a fog. "Thanks, friend. Night."

Watching him walk away left a sour feeling in her stomach. Something like disappointment wrapped around her, but she shook it off and busied herself with finding the others. Hapi was more than happy to slump off to bed. Constance insisted that someone had to guide Balthus back or they'd spend the next morning searching for him in every field from here to Enbarr. Figuring she was probably right, Byleth bid them goodnight and headed back to the rooms above the alehouse. There were no other visitors in the village, so each of them was blessed with their own room. Balthus's was luckily on the first floor so that Constance wouldn't have to tug him up stairs. Hapi had already settled into the other first floor room. Byleth's was at the end of the hall upstairs. As she passed by Yuri's, she considered knocking on the door to wish him a proper goodnight.

**I would advise against it. I feel that if you were to seek him out now, you would walk into a situation for which you are not prepared.**

What situation?

Sothis remained frustratingly silent, but her message was received. Byleth could respect Yuri's privacy. Besides, it might be better if she figured out whatever was going on in her head before she brought it up again. That night, she slept fitfully, mind ablaze with visions of hazy, moonlight lavender eyes and a body pressed tightly against her own.

She woke in the morning with the sense that something was wrong.

Call it mercenary's instinct or just paranoia, the sounds of horses cantering so close to the alehouse was enough to drag her out of bed and grab her sword. A sharp order to search the premises confirmed what she was scared of: the Knights of Seiros were here. When she crept out of her room, Yuri was already in the hall, sleep mussed and looking just as on edge as she was. Byleth flicked her eyes at the door between them, silently communicating that she would go wake Constance. Yuri nodded, moving to the stairwell to gauge what the situation was downstairs. Taking care to silence her footsteps, Byleth made her way to the bed where the young woman in it was still contently resting. She shook her shoulder long enough to get the woman's eyes open, then slapped a palm down against Constance's mouth before she could even inquire what was happening. "We have guests," Byleth whispered. "Prepare for a fight."

Constance's eyes flew open in shock, but she nodded in understanding. Their belongings were still unpacked, but it wouldn't do them much good to try and sneak out of this mess anyway. Their pursuers would merely follow them into the mountains and potentially send word to other squadrons. It was a risk they didn't want to chance. Their best option would be to take out this party, then move out as quickly as they could.

A pair of Knights was speaking with the brewer when they made their way toward's Yuri's position. With deft but quick motions, Yuri signaled that there were four enemies. That improved their odds at least. Still, it would be best if they could incapacitate the ones here without much fuss so as to not send the ones searching the village running. Byleth peered down the staircase and spotted Hapi and Balthus, both watching carefully from the cracked door of Balthus's room. Hapi must have already been awake. Good. 

"We mean no disrespect, good sir. As I've already said, this is just the protocol set by the Archbishop. We have been ordered to search every settlement along the main roads. If we find no evidence of them here, we will be out of your hair shortly."

"And as I've already said, I'd like to know why you're searching for them before I allow you to rummage through my home. What crime are they guilty of?"

"That's classified information, I'm afraid."

**Of course it is. Should the people learn that this country wide man hunt is for a woman who has done nothing wrong, they would not assist.**

Byleth clenched a fist. What the hell was Rhea thinking? Why go to these lengths? Part of her wondered at the coincidence of them being found so far along the main road only two weeks after she allowed contact from Jeralt. 

**Erase the doubt from your mind, Byleth. Our pace has been impressive for being on foot, but these paladins can cover much more ground than we can. It is more surprising that we did not run into them sooner.**

Constance grabbed an arrow out of the quiver on Yuri's back. She whispered a charm against the shaft, sending an otherworldly glow down to the arrowhead. With a wink and a smirk, she handed the arrow back to him. With their foes so close by, she could not explain what the arrow did, but Yuri notched it anyway. He took aim at the woman nearest their location. She had her back to them, luckily, and did not notice him step further into the open. 

Her associate, however, did. "Look out!" he cried, startling the brewer. It was a fruitless effort. Before the woman could even turn her body Yuri's arrow buried itself in the crease of her armor near her shoulder. There was no cry, she just hit the floor, motionless. They had no time to consider under what spell she had succumbed to such paralysis. The remaining Knight drew his sword, urging the unarmed civilian beside him towards the door. Before he could move to charge them, Hapi and Balthus burst out of their hiding spot. A well timed banshee slowed him enough for Balthus to knock him out cold. Letting out the breath she had been holding, Byleth stood and hurried down stairs. 

The brewer looked flustered, but no worse for wear. "I apologize," Byleth said, trying her best to appear harmless. "We had no idea they were so close on our trail. We would have never stayed so long if we thought it would put your people at risk."

Swallowing audibly, the man nodded. "You lot don't seem dangerous to me. I've no quarrel with you. Though, I worry over what will become of us should the Church learn we fostered you."

"You need not concern yourself with that," Constance swore, looking extremely guilty. "They will not remember even being in this village, let alone your involvement. I promise on the honor of my House."

Before the man could respond, Hapi screamed, "Coco, move!" A crossbow bolt lodged itself in Constance's upper thigh before Byleth even saw where it was fired from. There was a broken window where the Knight must have shot from. Growling under her breath, Byleth sprinted out the door, Balthus and Yuri at her heels. Yuri was fastest runner among their group, outpacing the archer easily. The remaining Knight sprinted for his horse rather than for them. He would no doubt be retreating to get reinforcements. 

_Not on my watch_ , Byleth swore, letting the Sword of the Creator unfurl into its whip form. No sooner than the man had seated himself in the saddle did the serpentine blade wrap itself around his arm. Byleth yanked roughly, savagely cutting into the limb and tearing the Knight to the ground. The horse cried out, bucking and running off down the road without its rider. With his arm still wrapped in her blade, the man screamed bloody murder, unable to bring himself to his knees or defend himself. A sharp blow to the neck silenced him, but the echoing memory of his tortured cries made her sick to her stomach.

When she finally pried her blade free from his arm and righted herself, Byleth noticed for the first time that their scuffle had summoned an audience. The same faces she had danced and laughed with the night before were now pale with shock, horror and fear. There were no words that could erase the disturbance they had caused. All they could do was gather the soldiers and leave.

Hapi had removed the bolt and healed Constance by the time they returned, but the wound had been deep and the pain from digging it out obviously left its mark on the blond's mind. The sunlight did not have such a startling effect on her when she stepped outside to cast her spell on the Knights. She was already seeped in exhaustion. The charm she placed them under would erase their memories within the last day. For good measure, she also healed their wounds as best she could and gave them a sleeping drought. Still, if they woke here, it would be abundantly clear that whatever happened to them was related to the village.

One of the farmers hitched a wagon a pair of his horses. Claimed that he needed to head to the neighboring trading post anyway. He and his partner would drop the Knights off just outside the crossroads, so it would be unclear what direction the danger had come from or headed off to. All five of them bowed deeply at the waist to the gathered villagers. Even if it was to save their own hides, this deception would do wonders for keeping their position hidden too.

Tired, hungover, and injured as they were, the Wolves had no choice but to start their voyage up the mountain path. It was not made for horses, so Hapi had to take it nice and slow. Constance was quiet from the back of her Pegasus, focusing on maintaining a safe altitude. The further up the mountain they went, the harsher the winds became. Even she, Yuri and Balthus were getting battered by them, and they were on the ground. After a huge gust nearly knocked Constance out of the air, Yuri decided enough was enough and called her down. She could still ride the beast, but it was simply not safe to fly in these conditions. There was nowhere to settle down on the thin path so she tried to land further ahead where there was a larger patch of flat ground. It was a rough landing though and her unstable position in the saddle plus the wind was enough to push her off her steed in a heap on the ground.

They hurried to her as quick as they could without falling down the side of the mountain themselves. Yuri was able to rein in her Pegasus so that its struggling didn't accidentally hurt Constance. "You okay, Coco?" Hapi called as they got closer. Byleth withheld a gasp when the blond finally raised her head.

Tears streamed down Constance's pale cheeks. Every bit of her body, from her trembling shoulders to her bloodied knees, screamed misery. It was such a shock to see Constance, whose pride in herself and general sturdiness sustained her even when the sunlight zapped her of all her cheer and confidence, reduced to such a state. Lips wobbling, the girl finally sobbed out, "I...I want to go _home_."

Not a one of them dared imagine that she was referring to Abyss.

"Oh Coco," Hapi lamented, shoulders curled inward in sympathy for her friend's sorrow.

The blond deteriorated into pitiful, loud wails, sprawled out in the dirt. Byleth, so new to emotions herself, was almost intimidated by the strength of the feelings Constance was exhibiting. Balthus had no such hangups, rushing over to kneel at her side and wrap her in his strong arms. Their relationship was not made of hugs and reassuring touches, but Constance threw her arms around his neck like she had done so a dozen times before. In any other instance, the mage would have kicked and screamed if Balthus was ever so bold as to lift her off the ground and into a bridal carry. Now, she had no fight left with which to do so. The road ahead was lengthy yet, and the Knights they had incapacitated would be discovered before long. Yuri led the way with a unyielding determination, Byleth picked up the reins of her Pegasus, Hapi attached her forgotten pack to her horse, and Balthus carried Constance herself. 

By evening fall, Constance had cried herself out and returned, more or less, to her normal state of mind. Still, she did not fight Balthus's hold. Still, she did not speak a word. It was a small miracle when she accepted the bowl of soup Yuri gently pushed into her hands. Even more so when she emptied the flavorful broth from her dish. They had chosen a small overhang of the cliff-side they had been hugging for their camp. It wasn't anything luxurious. The freezing wind still cut through them like razors. But it could house the horses and give them at least a little cover from above, be it rain or the Knights that sought them. None of them were at their best. Hapi was half asleep, Balthus was dehydrated, and Yuri...Yuri had slipped into that aggravating state where he ignored all his own needs in favor of taking care of others. Byleth ached to pull him aside and draw him out of that dreadful condition, but she knew it was a futile idea. If there was anyone that needed tending, it was still Constance. 

**He's eaten. He's had a full canteen of water. So long as that remains true, let him cope however he knows how.**

She knew. Of course she knew. Yet, her mind and heart still fondly recalled the brilliant smile on his face as they played tag with the children in the village. The warm lilt to his voice as he sang softly to the young girl he had danced with. Had it really only been last night? Byleth could never bring herself to regret this decision. Every step she placed between her and the monastery made her feel less constrained, more herself. One day, though, she wanted this outlaw's life of theirs to be over. A life spent traveling the country, lending their aid to all who needed it, and basking in the comfort of moments like those...that would be a life well lived.

**I did not take you for the romantic sort.**

Neither did she. Could a creature with no heart love someone else? Truly?

Sothis did not have to respond for her to know the answer to that question.

Yuri and Balthus left to check the perimeter of their camp. Hapi had seemed hesitant to sleep, eyeing Constance who had taken to staring out at the darkened horizon. There may not be much Byleth could give to the youngest of their group, but Byleth waved Hapi off to bed, taking a seat next to the blond. The wind's constant howl blocked out the other sounds Byleth had come to associate with nights under the stars. 

When Constance spoke, it was almost too soft to be heard. "How far away are we?"

Sothis reached out with her magic without being asked, still unable to pin point an exact spot. The area was wide, about a day's travel in circumference. But they'd reach its border soon. "Not far now. Two days. Maybe three depending on the weather and how often we stop."

She nodded, hugging her knees tightly against her chest. "Are you frightened? Of what we may discover there?"

Byleth considered that for a moment. "No. Not really. Perhaps I should be."

Her answering laugh was mirthless, almost disbelieving. "I envy you. These enemies...whoever they are, wield such horrendous power. I cannot help but bulk at the disadvantage we find ourselves at."

"You're right," Byleth acknowledged, spreading her legs out in front of her. "There are five of us heading into completely unknown territory. We do have several advantages, though. They don't know we're coming, for one. I've learned to never underestimate the element of surprise. And we work well together."

"I suppose you have a point," Constance admitted. She loosened her hold on her legs, tucking her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I must confess I feel a bit childish compared to you. I have long since claimed that I would spare no expense to restore House Nuvelle to its rightful place in society. To that end, I've devised and tested spells of all sorts, used them on friend and foe alike. Defending myself and stunning others have never given me pause. For how could I fall further than I already had? It always seemed unthinkable." The wind tussled her short blond hair, not interrupting the far away look in her eyes. "My family was ambivalent toward the Church of Seiros, but it had always seemed to be an absolute in this world. To rise to the ranks of higher society once more, I would have to prove myself to both the nobility and the clergy. This journey we have embarked upon defies that idea to its core. I cannot escape the feeling that we are marching ceaselessly towards an unthinkable end. Even should I like to turn back, it does not seem possible. That terrifies me."

Despite her grandiose mannerisms and explanations of her dreams, Byleth was reminded that Constance had a firm grasp on the feasibility of her goals. While there were more than a few famous family bloodlines that had persisted through time across the three regions of Fodlan, minor noble houses rose and fell all the time. It was more fluid in places like the Alliance, where the governing system was designed for such a thing. In the Empire, it was a bit more difficult to change the way the other nobles regarded your lineage, though not impossible. The path to restoring her house required recognition, power and land. It was remarkable but everything she was attempted to do this whole time was geared towards making multiple groups recognize her power so that they would give her a chance. Such forward thinking was not Byleth's strong suit. She couldn't deny that this emotional crisis was born of valid concerns and it was very impressive.

"You're amazing, Constance." The girl's head shot up, giving her a bewildered stare. Byleth gave a small smile at the visible blush on her cheeks. "No, really. I admire your foresight. You may think me foolish, but I've not once considered that me leaving the monastery could have any lasting impact on the country as a whole. I suppose I don't view myself as important enough for such a fuss. But, if the nobles of Fodlan are watching this, then you may be right. Maybe things will change. Whether it will be for better or for worse...I think someone will right a book about that one day."

Constance snorted, "An astute observation. Our own views on current events will be irrelevant should we end up on the wrong side of history. We simply must endeavor to claim a magnificent victory, then. Then historians will sing _our_ praises." There was the Constance they all knew and loved. A bit quieter, but it did make Byleth feel better hearing her boast. "I do not find you foolish, Byleth. Though, I do admit I cannot fathom why you chose to do things this way than from within your propitious position within the Church."

"Because the Archbishop kept my mother's corpse preserved in a case so she could look at her for over ten years. Then allowed one of the cardinals to take that corpse and do Goddess knows what to it while he plotted to revive her," Byleth snapped, mellowing instantly when Constance jumped beside her. "I couldn't go back to standing at her side, killing people at her command, but getting no explanation as to _why_. If this path leads to my demise, that's fine. I'd rather die than live a lie like that."

It was a hundred times easier relying on her sword and her wit than the good graces of a system that took no criticism and punished nonconformity. If she had to die by that sword, she would. That had always been the plan anyway.

"You truly do not fear death? You'd walk into a fight knowing naught of your enemy and content yourself on it being your choice to step forward. Is that it?" Constance eye's searched hers, disbelief apparent in her purple eyes.

"I don't fear my death," Byleth corrected. "But I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do not suffer the consequences of throwing your lot in with mine. I promise you that, Constance von Nuvelle."

Slowly, that incredulous look morphed into something more fond. Chuckling to herself, Constance gave her an honest, genuine grin. "Mayhap it is you that is amazing, Byleth. Thank you for your perspective. I shall ponder on it."

It was charming how relieved the others looked when morning came and Constance was back to cowering in the shade and insulting them all with flowery language. Such a strange group they were. Though, she did notice that Constance lean her head gently against Balthus's back when they were packing up, likely an unspoken thanks for his comfort the day prior. Yuri and her shared a secret smile, not willing to disturb the normalcy by teasing the poor girl. 

True to Sothis's approximations, it was on the second evening of days spend hiking through difficult terrain that Constance perked up. A magical barrier of sorts wrapped around one particular peak off in the distance. Evidently, the spell would not bar entry into the region, but inflict any who passed through with terrible vertigo and foggy memory. Meant to deter, not block. While Constance, Yuri and Hapi strategized a counterspell, Byleth found herself staring off in the direction of their goal. The barrier was troublesome but also heartening. If this place was protected, it had to be for a reason. Anticipation swirled in her gut. They were so close.

**Haste makes waste,** Sothis reminded her. **Exercise caution. I find it doubtful that we will escape this without a fight.**

Cracking her knuckles, Byleth took a deep breath to settle herself. A full month now of biding her time and awaiting their arrival made her antsy. The promise of a fight did not scare her. In fact, she was _counting_ on it.

-x-x-x-

It had taken them the entire month, but they had finally managed to track down a solid lead as to where Flayn was. The start of the thread had, to Dimitri's surprise and pleasure, come from Felix. His childhood friend had seen utterly uninterested in searching for Flayn, openly hoping that someone had kidnapped her so that Felix would be able to fight the dastard. At the time, Dimitri had sighed, adding that to the endless list of fires he had to put out. However, it was Felix's habitual training and watchful eye that had made them search for Professor Jeritza, who had been slipping away from the monastery at night for months now evidently. Dorothea also mentioned to Hilda that she hadn't seen Professor Manuela in since the night previous when she mentioned Professor Jeritza to her. Several witnesses had seen her running towards the Knights' Hall with a mask similar to the one Jeritza wore in her hands the morning of the 30th. Though it took them an hour to gather their forces and storm Jeritza's room, they made it in time for Edelgard and Professor Hanneman to get the injured Professor Manuela to the infirmary.

Even with Edelgard missing, the might of three houses combined made their venture into the underground chamber child's play. The Death Knight, or so they called him, did not have a tight enough hold on his troops, allowing the students to make a clean sweep of them in a little more than thirty minutes. Even the Death Knight himself, who had vocally despaired that Professor Byleth was not among them much to Claude's ire, had fallen to the combined fury of Lysithea, Hubert and Annette. Dimitri had been eager to arrest the man and turn him in for questioning, but they were interrupted by a mysterious character named the Flame Emperor. Dimitri had been certain they'd be in for another fight, but the figure ordered the retreat of the Death Knight then turned to him and Claude.

"It may surprise you to know we have the same enemy," the Flame Emperor claimed. "I do not have the luxury of choosing my methods at the current moment, but should you find the courage to fight, my might will back yours."

Before Dimitri could wrap his head around that, let alone reply, the masked man disappeared just as abruptly as he had arrived. He had stood there, dumbly staring at the empty room for a full minute before Claude clapped him on the back. "C'mon your Princeliness. Let's go return Sleeping Beauty to her keeper."

Edelgard had met them by the entrance to Jeritza's room, looking out of breath and relieved. Dedue volunteered to carry Flayn to the infirmary, while Rapheal carried the other girl they had found. Edelgard commented that she vaguely looked like a girl named Monica who had disappeared a year or so prior, but made no further remarks. Mercedes, Ignatz and Ashe offered to go with them. Dimitri sincerely thanked all the students who had joined in the search for their hard work before joining Edelgard and Claude on the way to see Lady Rhea and Seteth.

Predictably, Seteth was overcome with emotion when he got the good news.

"I...cannot ever thank you enough for your help. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all. I will arrange for your houses to get a higher allowance in the coming months."

Dimitri shook his head with a smile. "No reward necessary, Seteth. Flayn is our friend. We would never have sat by while harm befell her."

"No _reasonable_ person would," Claude quipped, eyes never once leaving Lady Rhea, who was sitting in her chair. She did not appear to be paying attention. Edelgard glared at Claude as subtly as she could manage. Thankfully, Lady Rhea did not respond to the jab.

"I'm glad to hear that Flayn has been found, Seteth," a voice greeted from the door. When Dimitri turned, it was Jeralt Eisner who met his gaze. His breath left him all at once, watching in uneasy fascination as the Captain of the Knights presented himself to the Archbishop. It was uncanny how different Lady Rhea's response was to Jeralt's entrance compared to theirs. She practically sprang from her seat, flashing him a tired, but relieved smile.

"Jeralt! You've returned. Tell me, have you had any word from Byleth?"

It felt as though everyone in the room save for Rhea and Jeralt was holding their breath. The Blade Breaker had been assigned to a long mission, leaving shortly before their journey into Abyss. This was the first any of them had seen of the man since then. Though he had been away from the monastery for a time, it was highly unlikely that he was unaware of the search for his daughter that was going on at the moment. Should a man such as Jeralt decide to take offense to this treatment, what would the consequences even be? A bead of sweat ran down the back of Dimitri's neck. He knew he personally was not yet prepared to find out.

Beside him, both Claude and Edelgard watched the mercenary warily as well.

"No," Jeralt finally said. "I haven't. Is something wrong?"

Claude's expression morphed into something foul. Dimitri could not understand what had upset him, but he was relieved when Edelgard took a step closer to him, silently reminding him of his place.

"I am afraid that your daughter has disappeared, dear Jeralt. I've sent most of the Knights out to look for her. Unfortunately, it has been quite some time and we have not found her yet. I'm growing worried."

Anger flared in Dimitri's chest. Lying about the professor to her Jeralt of all people was despicable. It struck him then that she intended to send even the professor's own father on a witch hunt for her. Dimitri despised this state of affairs. His uncle had even sent him word that the Church was implying that territories that did not cooperate with the Knights' search would find aid from the Church harder to acquire. It was a threat, thinly veiled as a plea for assistance. He couldn't stand it.

To his surprise, Jeralt actually laughed. "I see. Well, if I know Byleth, she's not the type that any green Knight could track down. I taught her well, after all. Recall the Knights back to the monastery for the time being. I'll prepare my battalion then take a stab at finding her."

What? Dimitri shared a stunned look with Edelgard. There was no way that Jeralt had agreed to hunt down his daughter without even a proper explanation as to what was going on...right?

Lady Rhea's pleasant smile thinned. "I trust your capabilities more than most, Jeralt, but I do not think it wise to leave it only in your hands. Capable as you may be, you cannot search all of Fodlan at once."

"Given that Flayn was kidnapped here on monastery grounds, is it really wise to continue a fruitless search and leave Garreg Mach defenseless instead?" Claude argued, sticky sweet tone and smile tarnished by the positively murderous look in his eyes. Dimitri trembled at the malice in the glare that Lady Rhea fixed him with. Even Seteth seemed to bulk at their stare down.

Edelgard shoved her elbow harshly into Claude's side, pipping up, "Excuse him, your Eminence. We are all exhausted from our mission today. We ran into some unsavory characters under the Knights Hall. If that is all you require from us, we will gladly accept our next month's missions and be on our way."

_Good save, El_ , Dimitri praised silently. They would need to have a serious conversation with Claude later tonight about what had him so riled up. Even now, Dimitri could see him nearly vibrating in place.

Lady Rhea regarded them coldly for a moment more. "Your mission will be to prepare for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. It is still a fine tradition of the Officer's Academy that we will be observing at the end of the Wyvern Moon. A fine place for students such as yourself to focus your efforts."

The silent "rather than sticking your noses into Church business" was rather obvious. 

The three of them bowed and excused themselves, leaving Lady Rhea and Jeralt to commune. Seteth followed them out, thanking them once more for helping he and Flayn, then setting off for the infirmary. Claude stalked off and down the stairs without even waiting for them. Edelgard sighed in frustration, "Hopefully he's calmed down by tonight. I'll see you later, Dimitri. Good work today."

It was scarcely as if he could relax before them. The Flame Emperor's message, Sir Jeralt's odd behavior, Claude's boiling anger...the situation they found themselves in was perilous. Who knew how long they had until something came to a breaking point? Dimitri only hoped that it wasn't one of them that broke. That, he figured, would be harder to fix.

Claude was already dressed in his uniform and seated in the study room when he and Edelgard came over after dinner. El sighed disapprovingly. "Did you even eat, Claude? Honestly."

Spinning a pencil across his knuckles, eyes a thousand miles away, Claude shrugged. "What's it matter to you? You're under no obligation to take care of me, Princess."

"I disagree actually," she argued. "In the current state of the monastery, we have no one to rely on but ourselves. Even our teachers are all out of commission."

Claude's expression soured again. Ah. So it was that topic that bothered him. Dimitri couldn't blame him. Even he missed Professor Byleth. Of all their tutors, she had been the most hands on. The Golden Deer house had learned enough good habits to maintain themselves, but her absence must have been harrowing to them. 

"You know, I actually sympathize with Professor Byleth." His thoughtless musing shocked both of his companions. Neither said anything so he explained. "Everything she went through down in Abyss. The pressure of Lady Rhea's...obsession with her. Why...if I were in her shoes, I may have fled this place as well." Claude directed his troubled expression down at his lap. Edelgard had yet to move her gaze from Dimitri. It was a probing expression. He knew it was a foolish thing to say, but he said it anyway. "We are intended to be the future King, Emperor and Duke of the three regions. Our obligation is to our people. We must do what is best for them. I suppose...I am starting to wonder whether I will be able to stomach Lady Rhea's whims to negatively impacting my Kingdom."

Edelgard's expression bloomed into something complicated. If Dimitri didn't know better, he would have said it looked like _hope_. But that would be ridiculous. 

"Might want to chose your words more carefully in the future, Your Highness. Statements like that could be seen as treason."

It took Dimitri a moment to realize that the voice that had spoken was not Claude. Ice rushed through his veins as he realized that Sir Jeralt was leaning against the open doorway of their room. The three house leaders stared at him in horror for a moment before Jeralt fully entered the room, locking the door behind him (as they should have) and took a seat heavily closest the door. He gestured for Dimitri and Edelgard to sit. They did so, suddenly itching for the comfortable weight of their weapons against their sides.

"The three house leaders bickering openly in court during the day, then sneaking away to a private room for a rendezvous at night. Mighty suspicious, wouldn't you say?" His tone was conversational. Dimitri has no idea what to do with it.

Claude, apparently, had no such trouble. He met Jeralt's gaze with a toxic grin. "You know, you're right. That _is_ suspicious. Almost as suspicious as a Captain of the Knights of Seiros, who just so happens to be the father of a current fugitive from the Church, lying to the Archbishop's face about not knowing where his daughter is." 

Lying? Dimitri furrowed his brow, looking between the two men. Jeralt had been lying? He supposed that made sense. And if that were true, then his easy acceptance of Rhea's request was not so unreasonable. But what was his play?

Edelgard sent Claude a pleased looked, chin held high as she addressed the Captain. "Let's cut straight to the heart of the matter. What can we help you with, Captain Jeralt?"

The man's expression was an amused smile. As if it pleased him that their wit was so sharp. Dimitri could still not relax though. "As I hear it, you kids went down to Abyss and met an old friend of mine. I want to know what happened. As specifically as you can manage."

Ah. That confirmed something crucial: Jeralt had not heard the full tale of what befell Aelfric. The enormity of that request settled into the pit of his stomach like a rotten apple. They would be responsible for informing one of the most successful mercenaries in the country that his wife's dead body had been defiled by a cardinal of the Church. And that in some ensuing argument, his daughter had fled the monastery. It was a heavy burden. One he didn't feel prepared to shoulder lightly. Clearing his throat, Dimitri inquired, "And in return?"

"Depending on how forthright your information is, I'll return the favor," Jeralt returned. "I've been in the Church's service for...heh, _awhile_. I guarantee I'll have the answer to at least a few of your questions."

The three students shared a glance. Their information networks were...limited at best right now. So much of what they needed to know would not be the sort of thing any book would hold. Lady Rhea and Seteth had controlled the library's contents so well that it likely held nothing they could use. And if they refused, who knew what consequences there would be? The longer Dimitri looked at him, the more he realized that Jeralt Eisner was better at hiding his emotions than even Claude was. Whatever they told him or withheld from him would spark a response. It was in their best interest to remove themselves and their classmates from the radius of that fury as quickly as possible.

Claude relaxed back into his seat, taking a breath before he finally spoke. "Well, at the end of the Verdant Moon, I noticed a shady figure wandering around the monastery..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else thirsty for some feral Claude? Cuz I personally am parched. 
> 
> In other news, Byleth herself is just thirsty. Full stop. Don't worry, I'll get tired of cock blocking Yuri and you readers eventually. Had to at least attempt to make this slow burn.
> 
> God I love Constance. She's such a cool character to work with. Had to give her some screen time. Don't worry, Hapi and Balthus will get some too.
> 
> Any other suggestions or wishes y'all wanna toss my way? Anyway, love y'all. You're so great.


	6. Maybe ignorance is bliss after all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That idiot. That absolute moron. Playing the hero and making decisions for their well-being even though she damn well knew it would come back to bite her personally in the ass. Yuri adored Byleth's kind heart and endless supply of empathy, but Goddess Almighty could she not be selfish for even one minute?
> 
> If they got out of here alive, Yuri was going to rip her a new one over this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. Note the rating change and the archive warning. Things do get a bit violent this chapter.
> 
> Also, as of this chapter we are back to Yuri's POV. Yay! 
> 
> The last note before you get started is that I do switch between monastery time and wolves time a lot. Those timelines are not exactly well matched. So just because weeks are passing in the monastery scenes doesn't mean its been weeks for the wolves. That's for a specific reason which you'll see next chapter. But for your reference, the wolves part takes place in one day, somewhere in the second week of Wyvern Moon.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this.

Yuri wasn't sure what he expected to find at the end of their journey through the mountains, but a technologically advanced city hidden deep under ground was not even on the top 100 things.

Abyss was a stone temple, hidden among tunnels left by Goddess knows what. Before the misfits of Garreg Mach had ventured down there, who used the space? Why were some of the carvings, such as the arena, so complex? Had they been above ground at some point? Those were mysteries Yuri thought were too far beyond his reach to solve. 

Now, those thoughts felt like a child's novel compared to...whatever the hell this was.

The cavern the city was built in was humongous, far tall enough for Constance to fly comfortable above even the tallest buildings. The roads were made of metal, illuminated by an unnatural glow, and every now and again, mechanical beasts would pass them as they hid. Far more advanced than the creepy dolls they'd accosted before. Really, the javelins of light didn't feel all that unknown compared to doors that opened on their own and nonhuman voices announcing the time through the very air.

"Holy crap," Balthus exclaimed with feeling upon finding a safe place to pause. "This place is nuts."

"It feels like a dream," Constance agreed, still a bit starry eyed. "Were I to learn magic of this scale, I would never need to concern myself with things like coin or political niceties."

"How the heck did no one know this was here?" Hapi wondered, munching on some of the meat they dried during their preparations.

"Apparently, the magic running through this place is old. Older than even the Empire. And the barrier we passed through would prevent anyone from finding the entrance," Byleth explained."

"Oh! Did the little lady in your head tell you that?" Balthus grinned. "Tell 'er I say hi!"

Chuckling, Byleth nodded, "She can hear you, Balthus. She says hello."

It still was a tad strange that an entirely separate, sentient personality could exist within someone, but Yuri was well passed the point of trying to make sense of things. Crazy, ancient magic was good enough of an explanation for him. That was, until they got to the questions he personally wanted answered. Besides, he could tell that it was a point of anxiety for Byleth. She'd carried that secret around, scared about what people would think about it, for months. Hapi summoned monsters by sighing, Balthus could drink twice his weight in alcohol, Constance developed an entirely new personality in the sun, and Byleth had a sassy ghost child in her head. No big deal.

Yuri couldn't deny that he enjoyed hearing Byleth drop saucy one liners in a one sided conversation with the air. He couldn't speak with her himself, but Yuri knew this girl called him the "Rat Prince" and that was enough for him to snark at her whenever possible.

Honestly...rat prince. The nerve. He was far too beautiful to be a rat.

Speaking of bothering her. "Does the spectral infant have any idea as to where we should start looking? Cuz, this place is kinda huge."

Byleth sat for a moment in silence, occasionally rolling her eyes or nodding. Yuri couldn't suppress his grin, knowing that she was likely cursing his name inventively. "She's not exactly very focused at the moment," Byleth shot him a _you know what you did_ look. "But, I can imagine that this city can't be structured too differently than any other. Ergo, ideally it would have a library."

That...was actually not a terrible point. "Rather simplistic, but I like it. Now, where do we think a library would be in a place like this."

Hapi yawned, despite it likely still being morning, "Not near the outskirts. In the middle or something."

"The public library at least would be," Constance chipped in. "Any more selective ones would likely be more difficult to find."

"Well, heading more towards the center is a start, I guess. We just need to be stealthy." Yuri directed that last part at Balthus who pouted in rebuke.

"It'll be fine," Byleth soothed, smiling. "We practiced this before, remember? Two small groups, light steps, one group keep watch while the other searches."

It was slightly irritating how easily Balthus perked up when Byleth was the one going over their plans. Not that he was jealous. He knew he wasn't always the most forthright with his ideas. Byleth was a good balance for him in that way. Yuri came up with plots, told Byleth, she worked out any kinks and told the others. Yuri wasn't sure what he would do with Balthus's sparkly eyed glances even if he was worthy of them. If anything, he was still trying to come to terms with not being The Boss anymore. Byleth always preached equality and trust between them. She wasn't wrong. They'd only made it this far by all pitching in. There was no room for a single mind controlling the whole operation here.

Still didn't mean he was used to it yet.

Eventually, Constance happened upon a good lookout spot. Yuri and Balthus would climb the metal stairs and settle onto the top of a building to monitor things while Constance, Hapi and Byleth snuck around looking for any location fitting the description of a library. It wasn't too difficult yet. They'd only seen two or three actual people the whole time. They were...weird. Very pale and all dressed in black. Byleth had made a joke about him being very pale too, which had earned her a sharp slap on the butt. Not intended to hurt, just to make enough noise to be thoroughly embarrassing. Yuri could still picture her angry blush now. Still, despite the easy time they'd had thus far, Yuri could only imagine what would happen as they got deeper in. His silence spell would almost certainly get some use soon enough.

"Can I tell you something, Boss?"

Yuri didn't look away from Hapi, who had left her horse behind with them to investigate on foot. "If you can say it quietly enough to not risk blowing our cover, go for it."

"I'm glad you and By have each other."

Yuri whirled around to look at the other man. "What? Where did that come from?"

Balthus grinned at his rather damning reaction. True to his word, he was much quieter than Yuri expected from him. "I dunno. I've known ya a while now and you've always seemed really lonely. You been on your own for so long that you always try and do stuff by yourself. And hey, don't get me wrong, you're good at it! I just think it must be pretty nice to share that burden with, yeah?"

Huh. Of all the people to make such an astute observation, he really didn't expect it to be Balthus. "You know, Balthus, for an idiot, you're kinda smart."

Grinning, his friend boomed, "Thanks, Boss!"

"Quiet!" Yuri hissed, eyeing the streets below them to make sure they hadn't been spotted. Seeing that the area was still rather deserted, Yuri relaxed again. "You thought I was lonely?"

"Uh, yeah. Were you not?" Balthus frowned, speaking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wouldn't be so outlandish for Balthus to understand the feeling. The grappler was no stranger to being on his own. Yuri wondered if his strong desire for freedom was ever tempered by that familiar lonesome that Yuri himself experienced.

"I suppose I was," he admitted. "I just...never thought about it like that before. Hard to imagine being lonely when you're constantly surrounded by people." Yuri had always had at least some company. His gang, his mother, his targets, the people he decided to blend in with. There was a good span of time, when he was about 14, when he didn't spend a single night alone. Not always a new face, but more often than not. Sometimes, he wouldn't even remember who he had slept with. Woke up to money on the nightstand and an ache where the sun didn't shine. Why would he ever assume that he was lonely?

"Yeah but being in the same room doesn't mean you're with someone, ya feel?" Balthus pointed out. Again, a very uncharacteristically wise statement. Maybe Yuri's opinion of Balthus needed some drastic revision. "That pretty head of yours is always somewhere five steps away. Sounds exhausting to me, personally."

Yuri laughed ruefully, "Believe it or not, it's exhausting to me too. Hard to let it go, though. It's always been sneak, stab, lie with me. Can't really imagine a life for myself where that isn't necessary."

The other man nodded. "I getcha. Old habits die hard. It's like that for By too."

By? They were at the nickname part of their relationship, hmm? Interesting. "Oh? I wasn't aware that you two spoke of such things."

"Whaddya think we do when all you beauty sleepers hit the hay? Sit in perfect silence?"

Snorting, Yuri shook his head. "Trust me, Balthus, I would _never_ accuse you of being quiet. Ever."

Balthus huffed, adjusting his position so that he could lean against the railing of the roof. "She's a damn good listener, man. Hits you with those pretty, concerned doe eyes and suddenly you're spilling secrets you ain't thought about since you were a kid."

Arching a brow, Yuri pressed, "Secrets I never got out of you from our bet?"

"Yep!" Balthus seemed almost smug. As if him telling Byleth something he hadn't told Yuri was an accomplishment.

In a way, maybe it was. "...interesting." 

"Anyway, I had a point...oh yeah!" Yuri shot him a glare and he luckily quieted down before continuing. "She don't like talkin' about herself much but from the bits I've managed to squeeze out of her, she actually reminds me a lot of you. Never really got close to people, better at taking care of others than she is herself, thinks she's gotta do everything." That was actually quite a true assessment of him, sadly. It also wasn't so off base to imagine Byleth sharing the same issues. "I know you have a hard time trusting us, Boss, but you seem to trust her at least. I think the both of you need that right now. Someone who gets where your head's at. I mean, you're both shit at prioritizing yourselves so maybe you can just take care of each other."

Something about that made his heart beat faster. It was so terribly romantic and cliche and silly, but the idea of watching someone's back while they watched his...did things to him. Was that not the basis of most marriage proposals? Be together in sickness and in health til death do you part? There was another thing too. Byleth wasn't the only person who had become extremely important to him. All of them were. They were his family and Yuri would do anything for family. Feeling a slight breeze tussle his bangs, he whispered, "I do trust you all. It's...difficult for me, but I do."

Balthus was silent for a moment before nodding. "Thanks, Boss. Means a lot."

They went back to watching the girls explore for a time. They'd cleared two buildings now and moved on to a third. After that, it'd be time for them to reconvene. Yuri couldn't deny that he was distracted though. A thought, well maybe thoughts, had been bothering him something fierce for weeks now. Given Balthus's recent evidence that he actually paid attention to the people around him, Yuri thought maybe the inevitable embarrassment would be worth getting his opinion.

That or he would have to kill him. One of the two.

"Balthus," he started, sounding very serious. "I'm going to need you to promise me something. If you do, I'll cut your debts to me in half."

The man balked, sitting up straighter at the thought of erasing even part of the considerable debt he'd accrued. "Woah that's...uh, sure, Boss. Lay it on me."

"Whatever we discuss here stays between us. You breath a word of this to anyone for any reason and I get to hunt you for sport. We clear?"

Drawing a cross over his heart, Balthus nodded. "Crystal."

Yuri blew a sigh out his nose, "Great...so, since you're apparently much more observant than I took you for...and since I feel most confident in your ability to be honest with me...brutally so sometimes...well..."

Balthus interrupted him, face scrunched up in an anxious scowl. "Just spit it out, Yuri, damn. You're givin' me heartburn."

"Byleth. What is your take on...how she views me?"

For a moment, both men were completely quiet. As it dragged on, Yuri wondered if maybe Balthus hadn't heard him.

"...are you asking me if she has a crush on you?"

Scowling, Yuri jeered, "Just answer the fucking question."

"Oh my Goddess," Balthus cooed, hands coming up to cover his mouth. "That's so cute."

Yuri's hands twitched towards the dagger on his belt. "Balthus," he warned.

"Sorry, sorry," the older grinned. "Just...out of all of us, I'd expect _you_ to know that. I mean, you guys were looking pretty cozy back at that party thing. That's answer enough, yeah?"

Rolling his eyes, Yuri allowed himself to pout, "You mean that time I gave her all the time in the world to kiss me and she didn't? Cuz I have no idea how to interpret that."

"Well why didn't you just kiss her?" He made it seem like it was the simplest thing in the world. Yuri honestly, truly, wished that it was.

"I... can't," he denied.

Balthus cocked an eyebrow at him. "What? Yuri, you've kissed _me_ before like it was no big thing. And I'm like...at least 85% straight."

Ah. Yuri remembered that. Wasn't too long after Aelfric brought Balthus to Abyss. The older man had not been entirely...respectful of Yuri. Called him pretty boy and practiced blatant disregard for his orders. Yuri had addressed that behavior by saying that his pretty face wasn't the only reason he was the boss. Or the only reason he was well reviewed. Balthus, ever the type to throw money down on a bet he couldn't win, claimed Yuri's charms wouldn't work on him. They'd bet that if Yuri could make Balthus eat those words, he would fall into line and call him "Boss" instead. Needless to say, Yuri won. Smiling to himself, Yuri snarked, "Eh. I'd give you maybe 75%. That's being liberal too."

"Not the point," Balthus fussed. "You ain't shy about sex and stuff. So what's the deal?"

"I'm not shy. I'm just being... cautious."

The elder cocked his head to the side. "What, you think you're gonna hurt By? You do have control over that, ya know."

Yuri sighed and corrected him, "I'm protecting _me_ , Balthus."

"W- you?"

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?" Yuri did love to pretend otherwise, but he was a human being just like everyone else. There were things that scared him. Things he wanted. And in this case...things he wanted so much that it scared him. "You're right. I'm not shy. I've sold myself as a fuck toy to disgusting nobles just to make end's meet. Sex is easy for me. This isn't."

There was a degree of understanding in the man's eyes when he asked, "This being...?"

He frowned, " _Feelings_."

Balthus laughed, "You say that like it's a disease. I don't wanna pester ya but, just so we're on the same page...how bad we talking here?"

Goddess, were there even words? He had meant what he told Byleth that night they met up with the others. Some things he still wanted to keep to himself. The inherent vulnerability that came from laying your life in someone else's hands was one thing, but their time in the forest was another. Yuri had built his entire life around an idea his mother had instilled into him. No one needed to know who he really was. His true intentions, true appearance, true personality, it was all something that belonged to him and only him. His mother knew a lot, but not even she knew everything. He'd always been so careful to keep up his mask, to be who people wanted or needed in that moment. Yuri never thought he'd meet someone he could trust with him, bare of that act. The Wolves knew it was an act, and accepted that, but still, he wasn't sure he wanted them to know him beyond it.

Yuri still wasn't sure if he'd ever have willingly shown it to Byleth if not for their drastic circumstances.

Waking up from that pleasant memory of his mother, being too weak to leave the bubble of intimacy she had created, her fingers running through his hair. It was really just a string of coincidences that ended up making his normal act unnecessary. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to push the situation back into the realm of things he knew how to handle. Yuri had offered to repay Byleth for her services. Yet, without his mask in place, it hadn't been nearly as flirtatious and shameless as he usually was when he made such offers. It was earnest. He had basically said _let me do something nice for you since you helped me_. No strings. Nothing to gain. And how had she responded to that proposition?

_You're the only one keeping score, you know._

The most ironic part was that at this point, he wasn't here to repay a debt. Nor was he truly in desperate need for answers. Yuri was attached. It was foolish, likely bound to get him hurt. But it wasn't like he regretted it. There was a place for him here among friends that cherished him and beside a woman that treated him as an equal, a confidant, and an integral part of her life. A woman that had seen parts of him that he kept locked away and never once tried to use them against him. When he thought about the future, it wasn't just doing small acts of good where he could manage it and continuing his underworld activities anymore. Now, Yuri dreamed of taking this twisted system the Church had made and rewriting it. He dreamed of a world where no one had to die from something as unfair as poverty. He wanted to break that chain of poor getting poorer and rich getting greedier.

And he wanted Byleth by his side when that happened.

How does one put something like that into words?

He couldn't. The best Yuri knew how to do was ask, "Ya know how she told me I should go visit my mom? I wanna take her with me when I do."

Somehow, despite his shitty explanation, that hit a cord for Balthus. "Holy shit."

"I know," Yuri agreed, seriously. "Which is why I don't wanna push it on her. So if you would kindly just answer my original question, I'd be grateful."

Scratching his head, Balthus noted, "I dunno, man. She's not exactly a pro at this whole emotions thing yet. If anything, she's probably just as lost as you. And like...I don't mean this in a bad way, but you flirted with her and some of them other kids something fierce when you first met 'em. What if she doesn't know if you like her for real or not?"

Yuri paused, feeling a bit silly for not considering that before. "I...see."

"But," Balthus added, "Like I said, I thought it was super obvious that she's into you. By ain't the type to fake shit like that. So I say go for it, pal. Go get 'er."

Nodding to himself, Yuri gave Balthus the most earnest smile he could manage. "Thanks, Balthus."

"Anytime."

Still, a bit lost in his own thoughts, Yuri figured he'd better locate the girls again. Only, when he looked, he couldn't find them. The warm, fuzzy feeling fizzled out into alertness immediately. "Balthus, where are the others?"

They scanned the area for a bit, before the elder man pointed out towards a street several buildings down. "Look, fire!"

He was right. There had been a flash of magic. Several in fact. Damn it all, Yuri cursed, flying down the ladder as quick as he could. Of course he'd get lost in some boyish chat about romance and other nonsense and accidentally fail at keeping watch over his teammates. 

Their footsteps echoed as they raced down the metal hallway. Yuri could hear the wisps of magic in the air, small explosions that were impossible to fully mask no matter how weakly the spell was cast. Only the absence of an alarm brought him comfort. If the girls could just kill their attackers and dispose of the evidence, they may still escape with their lives. He did not dare entertain the any other possibility. 

Yuri and Balthus rounded the corner, weapons drawn and ready to help defend their comrades, but slowed to a puzzled halt at the scene before them. A dark beast the likes of which Yuri had never seen before was consuming the corpses of the black clad warriors. At its side, watching over the gruesome meal like a proud father, was a mage, face hidden behind a mask with a long snout. The man turned towards Hapi, Constance and Byleth, who were disturbed, but seemingly unharmed.

"Ah, what a pleasant surprise," the cloaked man greeted to Hapi, almost happily. The woman flinched at the voice, pressing herself back against Byleth. "How nice it is to see you again, my pet."

-x-x-x-

Edelgard was exhausted. 

Being the House Leader to the Black Eagles was an honor. Her classmates represented the best and brightest of her similarly aged peers. They would become the future ministers, heads of state and leaders of the Empire. As she was to become the Emperor, it was tremendously helpful to spend their formative years together, developing bonds and trust that would ideally survive beyond the toxic political environment currently at play in their homeland. Edelgard would, of course, be changing all of that, but having allies rather than roadblocks was always helpful. Still, she could not deny that being seen as commander and chief of their class wore her down. Without Hubert, she really wasn't sure she'd get by.

Especially considering her...extracurricular interests at present.

This week had been far more harrowing than normal. Professor Manuela was still recovering from her wounds, so the burden of arranging for lessons for the class and guiding her classmates through said lessons fell to her. Professor Hanneman had shared his regret that the dire state of the Officer's Academy prevented him from helping more, but even the Blue Lions spent most days without his guidance. All they got were some textbooks on battle strategies, a copy of their lecture notes from this month last year, and a wish of good luck. The only thing that Edelgard could find solace in was that none of them struggled alone. All three of their houses were just as overworked. 

It had been Hilda's idea for them to rotate lesson days. Work smarter not harder, she claimed, figuring that they could grind themselves into the ground trying to be competitive or cooperate and all benefit from it. Surprising from a girl that was predominantly known for being lazy, but it truly had been an inspired idea. They each produced one lecture for anyone interested across the entire academy, giving them three days per week of large group seminars with the other two days of the week dedicated to house specific modules and self study. While setting it up was a bit of an endeavor, Ferdinand, Dorothea and Petra had already expressed their deep appreciation for this method. 

The days were long and full of pushing each other to the brink of collapse, and thus the nights were spent focusing on recuperation. House lines blurred during dinning hours and what little free time they had. Caspar, Raphael and Felix had taken to perfecting their hand to hand skills together. Annette, Mercedes, Lysithea, and Bernadetta had formed a book club of sorts, always seen eating the eldest girl's newest sugary creation and chatting. She had not believed her eyes when she found Hubert teaching Ferdinand, Lorenz and Ashe about coffee and how to brew it. Everyone across their classes had found ways to cope with the breakdown in structure across the academy.

Even her.

With their only goal for the month being the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, she, Claude and Dimitri very rarely had anything to substantial to report during their late night meetings. Yet, none of them had recommended meeting less often. Claude would lay down a tarp and experiment with all sorts of concoctions and potions (likely, poisons) at his end of the table. Dimitri read a book, repaired his lance, reviewed lesson plans, any number of things. But if any of them spoke aloud, they'd all let themselves be drawn into the distraction. It was educational, but also a great relief.

Dimitri had been the first to share anything truly personal. He had nightmares, constantly, of the tragedy of Duscur. He knew that his screams often woke Sylvain and Felix. Yet neither of them ever approached him about it. Claude asked him, full attention on the blond, if that bothered Dimitri. It hadn't shocked either of them that, in some guilty, small way, it did. Edelgard surprised herself by admitting that she too had nightmares. She even vaguely described what they were about. Dimitri's comforting hand on her shoulder and Claude's softer than normal gaze had knocked down a whole section of the wall she had put up around her heart.

Claude hadn't spoken much that particularly evening, but she and Dimitri had waked in on him, face buried in his arms on the desk the night after. "I miss Teach," he whispered, not crying but obviously effected. "It feels like she abandoned us. Me. I can take care of myself just fine...but that doesn't mean I want to be alone."

Dimitri, who was so much better at dealing with this sort of hurt than she was, removed one of his gauntlets and held Claude's hand in his own. When the other boy peeked one emerald eye out to look at him, the blond affirmed, "You're _not_ alone, Claude. None of us are."

That idea echoed around in her mind for days after that. How true was it? How far did this fledgling loyalty, this fragile friendship go? Could it survive the truth?

Was she brave enough to find out?

Before doing something anything that gutsy, Edelgard knew she'd need to speak with Hubert. He would protest, but it was his right to know. Also, she needed to know just a bit more about her fellow house leaders. 

One night, when the room was quiet save for the clinking of glassware and the scratch of Dimitri's quill, Edelgard finally breathed out the thought that had plagued her. "If we were to find out that the Church has irredeemably corrupt..." the silence that followed told her the boys were listening. "What would you do?"

"Define irredeemable," Claude bid, continuing his work.

"Does it matter? It's so individual of a quality," she retorted. "What is inexcusable for me may be fine for you, and vice versa. My real question is: should we discover some horrid truth, would you raise your blade against the Church, it was the right thing to do?"

They sat in silence for a moment. Her heart pounded in her chest. Claude was a sharp man, no doubt he would be able to use this conversation to derive her true intentions, should he put forth the effort. Should either of them voice this to Rhea, it would be enough to put her neck against the executioner's blade. 

Before she could worry herself further, Claude sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I love hypothetical situations as much as the next guy, but I can't give you a great answer here. We've seen first hand the consequences of bearing one's teeth against Rhea. It would take...a lot to make that risk worth it."

"But you've considered it?" Edelgard prodded.

Claude's eyes roamed her face, assessing her for a moment before nodding. "Haven't we all?"

Dimitri's quill cracked under the pressure of his grip. Releasing it and grimacing, Dimtri shook his head. "My first priority will always be to welfare of my citizens. Should there come a day where Rhea's actions post a direct threat to their lives, I will have no choice but to consider the Church an enemy of Faerghus. Until then...I truly hope that we never have to make that choice."

That sentiment hung in the air for the rest of the night. Fighting the Church would be a gamble. One that would require men, money and more resolve than they seemed to have at the moment. But should that change...

Edelgard let the possibility blossom pleasantly in her chest. Perhaps she wasn't on our own, after all.

-x-x-x-

"You," Hapi growled, face twisted into a scowl. "You were there in Faerghus with that woman when she...she..."

"Indeed," the man agreed, tone sickeningly conversational considering their topic was human experimentation. "Cornelia was not as fond of you as I was. She would have preferred it if our little test had failed. Luckily, you were a marvelous subject, dear. My favorite creation."

Yuri's stomach turned in disgust. There was nothing more in the whole world he would have liked more than gutting this sicko like a fish, but it was extremely ill advised. The beast behind him was content with its meal for now, but he wasn't about to test how hungry it was by pissing off its owner. He spared a glance towards Hapi, whose form trembled with thinly restrained rage. That wasn't to say he wouldn't be using the bastard as a whetstone for his blade later, though.

"Why did you come to our aid?" Byleth asked, hand still steadying Hapi.

"Not your aid, Fell Star. Just my creation's. How curious to find you together. Fate truly is amusing. But, I must wonder why you've come. And so poorly prepared at that."

Fell Star? Byleth did not seem to recognize the nickname either. Nor the man. They'd come for answers, but so far all Yuri had were more questions.

"Hapi is not the only one among us affected by your people," Constance claimed, expression unreadable. "We seek answers about the origination of our crests and the involvement your kind have. The Church of Seiros denied us their aid, so we come seeking our query here. Surely a scholar such as yourself can appreciate such prospects."

Good job, Constance. These bastards were way creepier than most, but they had to still be people under there. If this guy could form an attachment to Hapi, he could get his ego stroked. Maybe she wasn't so bad at kissing boots, after all.

"Hmph. The false prophet thinks herself above we who thrive beneath the surface. Our transgressions are of no consequence to one such as her. Still, I applaud your efforts. Finding Shambhala is not an easy task. I may be able to aid you, for a price."

Yuri's huffed through his nose. He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the similarities between their way of thinking and the Abyssians, or the quid pro quo. "Name your price."

"Not yet. I'll answer your questions, then come up with fair recompense. Is this agreeable?"

Fuck no it wasn't. Any fool with half a brain knew not to indebt yourself to someone for an unquantified favor. Yet, before he could tell the dude to shove his recompense up his ass, Byleth spoke. "Fine. So long as we go somewhere private, away from your creature."

Yuri hoped sincerely that his glare was able to express the full magnitude of his displeasure with her. Byleth's expression told him she knew, but if they made it out of here alive, Yuri was going to rip her a new one over this.

Along the way, they learned that their host's name was Odesse. His specialty of magic focused on beast summoning, which explained his fascination with Hapi. Odesse was definitely an academic type, loved to hear himself talk. Luckily for them, everything he said was extremely interesting to them. Shambhala was the largest surviving underground settlement of the Agarthians, a people who had once come from the land of Agartha. They had lived on the surface and thrived in a technologically advanced civilization along side the Goddess Sothis and her children. Byleth had flinched violently at the name, which Yuri would have loved to discuss at length, but did not dare draw attention to it. Especially since this talkative guide didn't seem to notice. 

The Agarthians had quarreled with the Goddess eventually, discontent with her strict limitation of their studies. Their entire society had been destroyed by her magic, forcing a small group of them to flee underground and rebuild. Shortly after repopulating Fodlan with a new group of humans, Sothis fell into a deep sleep to restore her power. Her children, who lived in Zanado, were to rein sovereign over them. It was the Agarthians who reached out to Nemesis, a charismatic leader and fierce warrior who was interested in their promise of power beyond compare. They led some of the Agarthians to the tomb of Sothis, where they destroyed her slumbering body and turned her spine into a sword powered by a all powerful stone made of her heart and the magic within her blood. It became known as the Sword of the Creator and was gifted to Nemesis along with the Crest of Flames. Nemesis used that weapon to purge Zanado of Sothis's children and their bodies too were converted into weapons. Those relics were named after the person slain to make them and rewarded to the ten elites, who fought at Nemesis's side.

The story was sickening. All of their eyes strayed uneasily toward the sword tied to Byleth's belt. Byleth herself was pale as a ghost. If it was true, this was a history that completely defied the one propagated by the Church. This was much more clear of an answer than Yuri thought they'd get. Unfortunately, it was also hard to stomach. And it left just enough holes that they needed more information to see the whole picture. Damnit.

_Just hang in there, By. As soon as we know enough we'll trick this bastard and get the hell out of this place._

Odesse led them to a small meeting room. Just large enough for all of them to fit comfortable. It did comfort him a bit that there were no windows. That was juxtaposed by the idea that there was only one door. This place was also deep enough into the city that Yuri wasn't 100% sure he could navigate his way out. Despite how this pile of stinking disadvantages made his skin crawl, Yuri took a seat when offered one. 

"How did Nemesis acquire the Crest of Flames?" Byleth asked, face schooled into a mask of disinterest.

"By ingesting Sothis's blood," Odesse explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The Nabateans' power flowed through their blood. That power, when given to a mortal, manifests itself into what you call a crest. It does not take much blood to appear. Trace amounts really. But the more dilute the blood, the lesser the effects. At high concentrations, a mortal could live nearly as long as the beasts themselves. Fascinating, no?"

That would explain why the noble families of Faerghus had been having so much trouble bearing children with crests as of late. It was slowly becoming a difficult trait to pass on. How many generations would it take for that power to run dry? And what would become of the governmental structure of the Kingdom when it did? 

This wasn't just tied to this group and the Church. Every part of Fodlan's current existence was wrapped up in this mess. Which meant that rocking the boat would have rather...revolutionary outcomes.

"Is it truly that simple?" Constance wondered, looking dubious. "I cannot imagine why Crests would not be completely ubiquitous in that case."

Odesse chuckled. "A good observation. In truth, the power of the Nabateans is toxic to your kind. Much like a disease, your bodies may accept or reject its presence. Lower doses are accepted more easily, but even so, I'd estimate that only 40% of subjects survive the process at all."

Balthus squirmed in his seat, face stormy. "There's uh, this thing we do in my hometown of Kupala when we're attacked. An elder passes out this red liquid that any able bodied man or woman drinks. Half of em get awesome powers...but half of em die. You know anything about that, bud?"

"Ah yes. Ytre. I know not what he calls himself on the surface but he had a particular fascination with human behavior in desperate circumstances. Among his studies were the lineage of Chevalier, Riegan, and many of the Faerghus crests, if I remember correctly. Some of the others in his laboratory work under Lord Arundel now in the Empire, but they've had work in the Kingdom as well."

There it was. The answer that had dangled so tantalizingly before their faces ever since he and Balthus first discussed that ritual. Confirmed at last. It didn't really matter to Yuri now whether the man who saved his life was the same elder or not. All he was in the end was a damn experiment. The grand gesture that had inspired his life's work was a fraud. He was a freak show, some guinea pig for a group of sadistic pale faced assholes in some metal box underground. Yuri's heart still beating in his chest was the result of being in the right place at the right time. Nothing more.

Part of him wanted to argue that the man didn't have to come back and save him. That maybe, his mother's kindness had reached his heart. But that part was easily buried under layers of stinging betrayal. 

Maybe ignorance was bliss after all.

None of them spoke for awhile, all deep in thought. It was Byleth who asked the last question, looking just as emotionally drained as Yuri felt. "How is it that the Sword of the Creator can function without a crest stone?"

Odesse hummed, then laughed. "Ah, but it can not. And I have a question for you as well on that matter, if you wouldn't mind."

Byleth's brow furrowed, likely considering what the implications were as she mumbled, "sure."

"What became of Seiros's most recent homunculus?"

For once Balthus's stumped question of "who's what now?" actually made sense. Yuri had absolutely no idea how to go about addressing such a question.

Odesse's voice depicted his slight annoyance. "A homunculus. A manufactured being. The false prophet has experimented with the concept ever since Nemesis was slain. We postulate that she seeks to revive Sothis. Thus, she creates vessels for her heart. A ridiculous venture, yet were she to succeed..." The man shook his head, a sneer in his voice. "Either way, we have kept track of her attempts. She kept the last one locked up, as I recall. Yet, you are younger than it would have been, assuming it aged. So tell me, Fell Star, how did Seiros create you?" 

Yuri's mind rushed to piece together everything he had just heard. Seiros, the warrior Saint, was alive and trying to find ways to revive the Goddess herself. The Rite of Rebirth, the Rite of Rising, the Chalice of Beginnings, what else were all these Church relics if not completely obsessed with restoring something that was lost? And who stood there, eagerly awaiting the results of those ceremonies? Rhea. The children of the Goddess had extended life spans. Odesse had told them that himself. Yuri had imagined, fifty to a hundred years at best, but who was to say it was not thousands of years instead. A millennium. In that case, the evidence pointed to only one conclusion.

Lady Rhea was Seiros herself.

A cold sweat broke out along Yuri's neck. The heart...the heart that had been passed from Sitri to Byleth...belonged at some point to the Goddess Sothis. No wonder she had no tolerance for Byleth's disobedience. A thousand years spent desperately trying to revive a dead God had been fruitless thus far but it was lunacy to assume she'd let that key piece of the puzzle waltz away from her so easily.

Rhea would chase them down to the ends of the Earth if she needed to. 

Fighting to keep his breathing under control, Yuri looked to the woman beside him. To a stranger, Byleth might have seemed unaffected. Her expression was kept neutral. It was the small things. How far away her gaze was. The clench of her jaw. The tight grip on the handle of the sword at her side. She was spiraling.

They needed to regroup. Take a moment to breathe, grant themselves whatever calm still hide within their bones and attack this tactically. Yuri thought of the best way to phrase such a request but struggled. 

It ended up being for naught. "I have no idea," Byleth answered, voice weak. "I know I was born at the monastery. That I left when I was young. Rhea would not tell me anything else except that I am special to her."

Lying with the truth was a good move, but it opened her up to more questions.

"Your parentage?" Odesse pressed.

"My father was a Knight. He found work as a mercenary during our time away from Garreg Mach. I never knew my mother."

"Have there been any changes since you first wielded the sword? Hallucinations, visions, dreams?"

"Not that I can recall."

"Hmm. Fascinating." The lilt of the mage's voice screamed disbelief. A scientist faced with an impossibility. Surely, he would try to poke and prod at this outlier until it spilled it's secrets. Yuri was afraid he just couldn't allow that. Meeting Hapi's eyes, Yuri nodded once, slow enough to be a mere stretch of the neck. Icing this bastard would be much easier on all of them than letting him pry answers from Byleth until their worth equaled what he had told them. "Well, since your memory of such things is...deficient, I've decided on another method of payment for my explanations."

Constance did her best to seem pleasant and amicable, "Of course. You were very forthright with us, after all. We will fulfill your request to the best of our capabilities. Within reason."

"Ah, but all I require is a simple thing." The mage extended a hand towards Byleth. "A small vial of blood, Fell Star. That should serve us quite well."

"No," Yuri hissed before he thought better of it. Constance glared back at him for his lack of tact and decorum. He could freely admit this wasn't his most suave move, but he didn't care much for pomp and circumstance at the moment. "My most sincere apologies, but handing a coven of blood mages a vial of blood from one who bears the Crest of Flames is quite a steep price. Is there really nothing else you'll accept?"

"No," Odesse said definitively. "That is the only boon I desire."

Hapi scowled, "And I guess we don't even get to know what you'd use it for?"

"Yeah!" Balthus crowed, pressing closer to Byleth to comfort her. "How do we know you won't use it against us?"

"How do I know you won't use the information you've gathered here against my people? Neither of us is very trustworthy. I at least gave you my end of the bargain first. Now, repay your debts, Holy Vessel."

He was right. Damnit, Yuri knew he was right. From a business stand point, he wasn't asking for anything outrageous. If he were, Yuri would have dozens of ways to talk him down. But by giving his information first, he could give anything he wanted until he knew that it would be worth what he desired. Fuck. They should have never agreed to this...

"Fine," Byleth agreed, just as Yuri was thinking of the best way to attack him using the space around them. The Wolves all jumped in shock at her agreement. "It's only fair, after all. One vial. Not too large. No drugs. Is that acceptable?"

The man's smirk was almost palpable. "Very."

That idiot. That absolute moron. Playing the hero and making decisions for their well-being even though she damn well knew it would come back to bite her personally in the ass. Yuri adored her kind heart and endless supply of empathy, but Goddess Almighty could she not be selfish for even one minute?

"My laboratory isn't far from here. I can perform the procedure there. Your companions may wait here. It shan't be more than a moment."

And he was trying to separate her from the group. No. No. Way. Yuri stood from his seat, giving Byleth the most livid stare he could muster. How many times had she preached about teamwork and acting as a unit? Only to turn around and make multiple choices on her own in enemy territory that were sure to get them killed. A fine time to be a hypocrite, he wanted to scream.

"Fine, but I'm keeping my sword on me."

"Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable."

Hapi was biting her lip rather aggressively. Likely restraining herself from yelling at Byleth for being an air head. Constance and Balthus seemed more concerned than angry. The blue haired woman didn't seem affected by their worries. She made her away around the table to where Yuri stood and reached out for one of his hands. Tugging on it, she brought her lips to his cheek.

"There's something I must confirm. If I'm not back in ten minutes, have Constance find me," she whispered, lips brushing his skin as she slipped something into his hand. 

Pulling away, she smiled serenely at them. "Don't worry. I'll be right back."

And with one last loaded glance, she followed the beast summoner out of the meeting room and was gone.

A beat passed. Then two. When they had certainly gotten out of ear shot, Balthus let out a frustrated growl and kicked the chair Byleth had been sitting in against the wall so hard, it made a dent in the metal plate. "Damnit!"

"What the hell was that?" Hapi wondered, hands shaking. "What happened to sticking together?"

"She didn't even ask if one of us could accompany her," Constance lamented, pouting down at the floor.

Yuri unclenched the fist at his side to look at what was in his grasp. It was a dagger. The one always strapped to her belt. If he remembered correctly, it was the weapon her father had gifted her before leaving her at Spider House. The first blade she'd taken a life with. One that never left her side. Constance's tracking spell would be extremely potent if used on this. 

And she would be without her backup weapon. 

The others stayed mostly quiet as they waited. Balthus tapped his foot angrily in the corner. Constance paced anxiously back and forth. Hapi sat in her chair, clenching and unclenching her fists. Yuri turned the dagger over and over in his hands, counting the seconds quite literally. Two minutes. Five. Eight. The closer the ten minute mark crept towards them, the more that awful sense of foreboding thickened in his chest. In the pack at his side, the presence of his notebook weighed on his mind. For weeks, he had been worrying over how many of his men across Faerghus and back in Abyss he would need to add to that book by the time this was done. He hated leaving them to their own devices. No matter how much he felt like this had been necessary, he'd always guilt himself over shirking his responsibilities as Boss. Any name he was forced to write in that book felt like a stab wound. Every time. 

If he had to write Byleth's name in this book ever...well, he really didn't want to think about that.

"Let's go," Yuri announced, fed up with waiting. "Constance can you cast that tracking spell again?"

"But of course," she chirped, looking much more lively at the thought of acting rather than standing still. She took the dagger with a smirk. "Is it time for a daring and valiant rescue?"

"Fuckin' hope not," Balthus grouched, heading towards the door.

Hapi huffed, following behind him. "Given our luck? Yeah. She ran into trouble. I don't trust that creep as far as I can throw him."

"You're kinda buff though, pal. I bet you could dead-lift Constance!"

"Let's _not_ test that theory, Balthus," the blond sniffed, half engrossed in the casting of her spell.

As his companions bickered, Yuri found himself distracted by a faint rumbling. A distant sound like metal on metal, coming closer. Something heavy was headed their way.

It wasn't until he heard the static of some energy being built up that he pushed the others out the door.

"Go!"

No sooner had they cleared the entrance of the meeting room, than a slashing beam of light demolished it where it stood. All eyes turned to the source, a golem made of metal with a horrific blade. And it had friends. More than two dozen mages, warriors and dark knights were converging on their position.

"Yep," Hapi moaned. "Knew it. I really hate when I'm right sometimes."

Constance thrust the dagger into Yuri's hands before he could so much as utter an order. "We shall take care of these ruffians. You focus on finding our wayward ally. The beam from the blade will point in her direction. Now, off with you."

Yuri blinked, surprised at the initiative they were taking. Still, he couldn't argue. If he stayed, he'd just be worried about Byleth. Nodding, Yuri took off running, shouting, "you better not die on me, you hear me?!"

All three remaining wolves grinned at their attackers and cried, "Yes, Boss!!"

-x-x-x-

Their first mock battle had been a mostly casual affair. A good chance to test their skills, and the abilities of their opponents. Yes, Edelgard had wanted to win. It felt almost imperative to show the new professor why she had been mistaken to choose Claude of all people over her. But, her loss did not have consequences. The only permanent injury was to her pride. 

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion was a different beast.

All that time spent preparing with the other classes made them feel like a single, cohesive unit. Not the Lions and the Eagles and Deer, as much as the Students. Edelgard loved that feeling. It made her feel secure, like she had allies anywhere she looked. It hadn't escaped her notice that Claude had been getting less and less sleep lately. She and Dimitri had pestered him about it endlessly. No matter how ragged his appearance, he still joined them for lessons, spent his evenings swapping secrets and jokes with her and Dimitri. She did not expect that good-natured camaraderie to disappear into the morning air like dew on the grass the moment the horns were blown. Lady Rhea was not even going to be present for the battle. It was a farce of what it normally was. Just something to keep them distracted. For the Eagles and Lions, it did not matter who won.

The Deer, however, were vicious.

It had shocked Edelgard deeply when Claude's forces tore over the central hill of Gronder Field like madmen, ripping Bernadetta from her ballista and turning its fire on both other armies. None of the students from the Deer house seemed happy to savagely beat their friends into the dirt, but they held back nothing. It made Edelgard feel like a fool for thinking this was a mere practice match. The battle felt like it only took moments. Even with her and Dimitri wordlessly agreeing to team up against the more aggressive threat, they only managed to take down Raphael. A measly victory considering that Raph had punched his way through Annette, Petra, and Capsar before Dedue could reach him. Edelgard could only watch as Hilda led an assault on Dimitri, battering him from afar with arrows, short axes and magic until he was out cold. 

An arrow took down Hubert before she registered the flying beast above the Eagles's territory. Claude stared apathetically down at her from atop his wyvern, leveling an arrow at her. It was so unnecessary. Almost desperate. "Why?" she wondered, still so unused to this ruthless behavior from a man who had once been full of mischief and laughs.

Claude's smile was cold, empty. "Anything to win. Nothing personal, yeah, Edelgard?"

The arrows in her shoulder and leg were not practice arrows. They were shot to incapacitate but not the way she could expect from an ally. It hurt more than she could express. And she didn't mean the physical wounds.

Dimitri awoke in the infirmary beside her to the unsurprising knowledge that the Golden Deer were declared the winners. His leg was stiff, would likely need some therapy to gain full mobility again. Most of their peers had similar reports. It was baffling.

"What the hell was he thinking?" the prince groused, shaking from anger and likely embarrassment. 

Edelgard shook her head, cradling her still numb arm to her chest. "Who can say, but Claude? Something was on his mind, though. When he returns from his meeting with Lady Rhea tonight, we'll be able to give him a piece of our minds."

Claude did not meet them in their study room that night, though they waited most of the evening. Nor did he come the next night. Dimitri and she were furious, marching themselves up to his room to demand a proper explanation. Yet, when they arrived, it was a not a locked door they faced...but an empty room.

"If you're looking for Claude," Lorenz hedged, looking far too grim considering his House's recent victory. "I regret to inform you that he and Hilda have yet to return."

Dimitri blinked, mouth falling open in disbelief. "What? From his meeting with Lady Rhea? The audience chamber isn't more than a kilometer away."

"No one has seen them since?" Edelgard asked, eyes narrowed in confusion. Lorenz shook his head. "That makes no sense. Tell me, Lorenz, did anything happen before the battle? Whatever caused you all to take such a violent turn during a mock battle of all things?"

Lorenz laughed without any mirth. "I do apologize. It was...unsightly of us. But Claude insisted upon it. Said that the stakes had been raised, though I have no idea what that meant. Hilda and Leonie vouched for the plan so the rest of us did not argue." The boy grimaced at the ground. "We should have, though. It is a noble's duty first and foremost to conduct himself appropriately. I...know many of the others feel the same."

She and Dimitri shared a glance. Claude had turned in early the night before the battle, though he still ate with them as normal. Neither had thought anything particularly strange about it. What stakes even were there beyond pride?

The next night, shortly after dinner had concluded, Lorenz informed her that Claude had returned.

Hilda, however, had not.

On their way to see him, Manuela stopped them.

"I...have a request," she said, looking conflicted.

Dimitri, ever one to respond well to people's emotions, gave her a comforting look and asked softly, "Of course, Professor Manuela. Whatever can we assist you with?"

The older woman looked around anxiously, then drew closer to them. "You kids are familiar with Remire village, yes?" They both nodded. It had been where they first met Jeralt and Byleth. "Something's happened there. Something strange. I'd love to get out there and investigate properly, but Lady Rhea has made it very clear that she will send no Knights to help. Those poor people are dying and she won't even lift a finger. Honestly."

Dimitri's eyes widened. "Dying? Are they under attack?"

Manuela shook her head. "No, well, not exactly. The citizens, not all of them, mind you, are becoming...sick. Some have died to an intense fever. Some have become rather aggressive. No one seems to know if this is a virus or magic. And, well, the only way to know is to go there and find out."

It was no virus. If anything, it sounded like Those That Slither had finally made another move. Strange though, she would have thought that Kronya would have informed her. Unless, they had decided to cut ties with her. That wouldn't go well with her uncle, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. The entire reason Kronya was in the academy posing as Monica was to spy on the students and potentially eliminate any particularly annoying threats. Or so Solon claimed. Edelgard hated not knowing things. Before they could make a decision on this front, they should likely inform Claude.

"Do you mind if we get back to you tomorrow, Professor?"

Dimitri looked like he wanted to protest, but Manuela nodded. "Of course. Please think on it carefully. I've no idea whether such actions would have an...consequences back here. I'll take the full blame should anything happen, but...yes, sleep on it at least. I'll speak to you tomorrow."

As Manuela left, Dimitri glanced at her, "We can't just leave them to die, Edelgard."

"And we won't. But, we still need to talk to Claude. Can we agree on that at least?"

Sighing, Dimitri nodded, heading up to the second floor of the dorms. Their walk down the hall passed the girls' rooms was solemn. Edelgard could see Marianne and Lysithea huddled together in Hilda's room, but she did not feel close enough to them to intrude. Hilda had been only minimally harmed in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Three days of her being missing was...bizarre. 

And left an awful taste in Edelgard's mouth.

When they finally arrive at Claude's door and knocked, they heard a familiar voice call them inside. Some of the tightly wound coils in her chest loosened at the sound. That fool had caused her more grief and worry in the last few days than he was worth, but she was very glad he was alright. Inside, the room was more of a wreck than normal. Not just the normal slathering of books all over the bed and floor, but now also maps and letters pinned to the walls and connected by threads. The more she looked, the more Edelgard realized that every wall was a large map of one of the countries. 

"Claude," she mumbled, confused. "What is all this?"

"Hello to you too, Princess. How lovely to see you."

Scoffing, she turned to face the future Duke and was struck speechless by his appearance. Claude had always been lean, but now he was thin. The bags under his eyes had darkened and sunken in so far that they rivaled even Marianne's. His normally tan skin was paler than normal. Yet, she could not see any visible injuries on his person. 

"What in the Goddess's name happened to you, my friend?" Dimitri gasped. "W-where have you been these past few days?"

Claude's normally bright emerald eyes were dull, still just as cold as when he struck her down in battle. He made no attempt to smile. "Lady Rhea wanted to congratulate us on our victory. Invited Hilda and I over to accept our reward."

The neutral tone threw her. What reward could suck the life out of him that way? And why invite Hilda too? Edelgard was almost terrified that she knew the answer, but didn't want to even go there without reason.

Dimitri didn't seem to understand yet. "What? That's absurd. You look like death had its way with you, Claude! What sort of reward is that?"

Shaking his head, Claude directed his vision back to the map of the Empire. "This was the thanks we got for being such loyal students. The reward was a mission."

The pit in her stomach only grew larger. "Claude, where's Hilda?"

A cruel smile spread across Claude's lips. He looked almost deranged when he met her eye. "You asked if I'd ever consider turning against the Church. Remember? I wasn't quite sure back then, but now...heh, let's say I'm more motivated than before. _Much_ more motivated."

Dimitri look a hesitant step forward, soft heart likely burning at the pain evident all over Claude's face. The wounds were hidden, maybe even healed by magic on the outside, but they obviously still bled. "Please," the blond pleaded, "tell us what happened, Claude."

"The Golden Deer have been ordered to find Byleth Eisner and return her to the monastery by the end of the Red Wolf Moon. A reward, for our exceptional performance this month." Edelgard closed her eyes tightly. Damnit. That was low, even for a monster like Rhea. "Lady Rhea made it very clear that it was not a request we could turn down. And that we would be...punished for both disobedience and failure."

She'd tortured them. Kept them locked away, breaking them of their will to fight and sufficiently scaring them into line. Claude and Hilda were backbone of the Deer at the moment. With them bent at her feet, the rest would just...follow along. Hilda's absence was telling as well. A hostage, as incentive for the students to play her game. Edelgard wondered if Claude had told his classmates the truth or not.

"We're heading out next week as soon as we get word from the Knights. Shamir's information has been fairly thorough thus far. Her scouts have a good guess as to where Byleth is. We'll start there."

"You're going?" Dimitri was shocked, rightfully so. "Claude, if the Professor doesn't want to return-"

"Then she's coming back in a casket," Claude growled. "I won't sacrifice my classmates for her freedom. I _can't_."

It was tragic, hearing him say that. All this time, any mention of her had sent him spirally into a wrath. After getting to now him as she had, Edelgard was sure it was because he missed her. Because he had adored her and was deeply injured by her absence. But now, their situation had become so perilous, all because of Rhea's sickening obsession with her. In truth, it wasn't Byleth's fault. Claude likely knew that, on some level. But the lesser evil here was clear. He couldn't afford to be sentimental towards her if it meant his friends would pay the price for his soft heart in blood. If warping his affection for her into betrayal and hatred was all he could do to get by, who was Edelgard to tell him that was wrong? 

Sighing, she asked, "And if you can't find her in time?"

"Then we'll do our best to bring Lady Rhea down with us."

Edelgard nodded, meeting his eyes stoically. Apologies would do nothing for him. He needed support, not coddling. If she was in his shoes, she knew in her heart she would do the same thing. She and Claude were actually quite similar, she thought darkly. All she could offer him was solidarity. "I promise you this, Claude von Riegan, should it come to that, you will not stand alone."

Claude's eyes softened a bit at that, turning to Dimitri. The prince still looked sick to his stomach, but he too nodded. "We won't stand idle while she slaughters you all."

Bowing deeply at the waist, Claude's voice wavered, but no tears dropped. "Thank you."

What a wretched world this was, Edelgard thought. Where children like them had to let the fires of vengeance shape them into weapons. Finally, Edelgard felt confident that she had the allies she had desired. But, at what cost? 

-x-x-x-

Yuri accosted only a couple of Agarthians on the way to where Byleth was, dispatching them quickly and quietly before continuing along the path. The lab wasn't far away per se, but it felt like forever when his mind kept whirling with thoughts of _please be ok, you dumb beautiful woman. Don't you die on me either._

Dread pressed on him from all sides at the litany of bodies around the lab, leading away from it too. Obviously, she hadn't felt like sticking around once she was attacked. Byleth was more than capable of protecting herself, but these numbers made even him blanch. Ten, fifteen, somewhere over twenty. The floor was positively soaked with blood. It squelched beneath his boots as he ran passed the building towards a square, listening for any signs of a struggle. The dagger's light indicated that she was up the tall flight of stairs. The number of corpses was over thirty now. As he reached the top, lungs burning, Yuri's eyes finally landed on her.

If not for the Sword of the Creator in her hands, he would not have recognized her.

Yuri had always thought Byleth's fight style was unique. It wasn't the crude, efficient way of a life long mercenary. It was artful. Now he knew that to be a consequence of years spent training with Madam's Zostra. The students of Spider House learned to dance before they learned to fight. It taught them good footwork, to be light on their feet and silent at all times. Byleth may have chosen to focus on strong hits rather than fancy maneuvers, but with the Sword of the Creator in her hands, she was a devastating beauty.

In it's whip form, the sword created quite an effective method of crowd control. It followed it's owner's dancing movements almost like a ribbon would. Yuri could imagine an orchestra, playing a concert to the background of this dance of death. A scene fit for an opera that would sell out every theater in the Empire. A mage drew too close to the radius of the blade, his head severed from his neck before he could even summon a spell to his fingers. No matter how many of the fools drew near, Byleth kept spinning and twirling, sending sprays of blood from her victims onto the ground like rain. Even she was coated in it. Yuri could not see alabaster skin. Nor her lovely teal hair. Only those lilac eyes peered out over the mess of red. It was stunning. Gorgeous.

Terrifying.

Yuri paused only for a moment before aiding her by finishing off any of the stragglers waiting in the wings for her to tire. When it seemed as though they'd finally earned a reprieve, Yuri approached Byleth carefully.

"I want you to know that first and foremost, I could have told you so. I sincerely hope you learned what you needed to because our get away plan just got messy." Yuri scoffed as he drew closer. "Well, not as messy as you are."

Byleth did not respond. The sword remained uncoiled at her side, dragging along the metal floor as she swayed, unsteady on her feet. Yuri's heckles rose again, back at high alert in an instant.

"By? What's wrong? Are you injured?"

Those purple eyes were hazy, unfocused. Yuri had assumed it was from the focus of battle but now he suspected something more sinister. His eyes cataloged her critically. A couple visible cuts among the blood. Nothing too bad...until he got to her waist. A gasp escaped him when he realized that half of a sword was stuck in her side. Deep. Scarily so. Broken off to allow her to move. How the hell had she fought like that with a blade in her abdomen?!

Yuri cursed, rushing to stabilize her. As soon as his hands rested on her shoulders, she weakly moaned and collapsed into his arms. Part of him wanted to wretch at the heavy stench of blood, but he chided himself. No time to get squeamish now. Worse, the skin under his hands was hot. Not just warm, but obviously feverish. Far too much to be from blood loss. The blade has been poisoned. 

Scrambling to search through his pack, Yuri debated whether closing the wound with the poison in her veins was better or worse than risking her bleeding more. The more he searched, the more frustrated he got. Yuri moved on to her back and was horrified to find that all that was left was a wet mess and a bag full of broken glass. Fuck. He knew for a fact that none of the others had an antitoxin on them.

Closing the wound it was. 

Yuri ripped the leather handle off her pouch and forced it between her teeth. "Bite," he hissed, as he notched her dagger under the exposed end of the blade and yanked. Byleth didn't even scream. It was somehow just as disturbing as if she had. The blade piece was still bouncing on the ground when Yuri cast Recover, sewing together the deepest parts of her wound. Muscle and organs knit themselves together after two uses of the spell, but the outside was still pretty nasty. Yuri hear shouts coming from somewhere near by and realized he didn't have time to worry about that yet. He needed to get her to the others. 

"You stay awake, you hear me? You'll sleep when we tell you you can sleep. Now, work with me here." Byleth weakly held onto his neck, letting Yuri hoist her up onto his back. His arms dug into her thighs hard enough to bruise to keep her steady but he'd apologize for that later. As he started to run, both their swords attached to his belt, he asked, "You with me, By?"

All he got was a hum in response. At least she heard him. It didn't comfort him though. 

Heading back the way they came was easy with the literal trail of blood to follow. That, however, also meant that reinforcements could follow that trail too. Yuri could have sobbed when he spotted Constance over head. "Almost there, By. We got this."

Balthus saw them first, face transforming into a visage of horror immediately. "Oh _fuck_ , is she...?"

"Alive for now," Yuri panted. "But poisoned. No antitoxin. We gotta get the fuck outta here."

"I see the way we came in," Constance called. "I shall lead us out!"

And so they ran. Balthus and Hapi covered Yuri as best they could, Constance providing some blanket fire power from above. A stray arrow took a chunk out of his ear at one point, making him almost keel over in pain. It wasn't poisoned though so he kept moving. Byleth struggled to answer him when he called out to her. Their time was running out, but Yuri was determined. They were gonna survive, damnit. They had to. He couldn't let this all have been for nothing.

When they cleared the entrance to Shambhala, finally, Yuri almost didn't realize it. Night had fallen, a testament to how long they had truly spent down there. They couldn't stop there though. Their pursuers sent mechanical wolves after them, very agile but not too hard to defeat. Still, it felt like no matter how much distance they put between them and the entrance, they still were fighting at every step.

Constance's voice called down urgently from above, "Even if we can evade these monstrosities, Byleth will perish from the poison long before we can make it to a town!"

She was right. Byleth's breathing against his neck was shallow now. He could feel the sweat beading her brow soaking his hair and shirt. They'd need time to let Restore pull the poison from her wound. Even more patience and focus to heal the gash at her side completely so as to avoid infection. With those mechanical monsters still chasing them through the mountains, they'd never be able to manage it. And without a proper antitoxin, she'd never survive long enough for them to stabilize her. Yuri's legs shook under him. Fuck. This couldn't be it.

The clopping of hooves approached him drew his gaze. Hapi leaped off her horse, unwrapping the shawl from her bag. "B, Coco, cover me! Yuri-Bird, come here! Now."

Swallowing down his panic, Yuri hiked Byleth up further on his back and made his way over. The woman wrapped the cloth around Byleth's back and then Yuri's chest, securing her against him more. She used any cloth she could find, the skirt Byleth wore, Balthus's farce of a shirt. As she wrapped, she spoke, frantically. "Its gonna wipe me out of like all my magic but I can use warp to get you two out of here."

"You've only ever managed to transport a single person a couple of kilometers before," Yuri pointed out, finding it difficult to expand his chest enough to breathe from the wrap, but not willing to complain. 

"Yep. So you're gonna have to trust me. Think you can manage that, Yuri-Bird?"

Yuri looked into her eyes, worry and amusement both readily visible. The eyes that gazed up at stars and saw right through people to their truest intentions. Smiling weakly, Yuri breathed, "I trust you with my life, Hap."

He wasn't imagining the blush on her face but didn't comment on it. "Good. Cuz here goes nothing."

The amount of magic that Hapi poured into the spell made her hands glow like tiny suns, illuminating the terrain around them despite the heavy fall of night. Yuri squinted his eyes against their gleam, tightening his grip on Byleth. 

Unbidden, Yuri imagined a place where they'd be safe. No, perhaps not that, but a place where he once _felt_ safe. Safe enough to laugh, smile and play without having to cling so tightly to the mask he relied on. A place where Byleth had been whole and happy in his arms, if only for a little while. The glow grew brighter, painfully so, as it swallowed him whole. It's shine stole away everything around him until he was left with only Byleth weight on his back and a pounding in his chest and head.

Then there was nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. That angst. Hits me in all the right places. I do regret that my schedule and the muse hasn't given me enough time to slowly describe Claude's downward trend into being feral. Conversely, I promise that unlike Dimitri, Claude won't completely recover just cuz someone kicks the bucket. Kiddo is gonna have capital P Problems for a bit. Much fun, no?
> 
> Also wow, I can't believe Byleth and the puppers learned literally every important historical point about the Seiros and Nemesis conflict in like 500 words. It feels like a very similar pace to how damn quickly we learned about Sitri and how creepy Aelfric was so yeah, I'mma keep it like this. Give these kids some therapy please. Odesse does exist btw. He's the dude summoning all the birds in the last map of the Verdant Wind route.
> 
> Don't worry y'all, next chapter will have a bit more fluff. ....a bit. Sadly, next week may kill me before I write it so...wish me luck!


	7. Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This feels familiar." Her voice was rough, but it was nothing a sip of water and clearing her throat would not cure.
> 
> Byleth felt the bed shift as Yuri sat up to grab her a glass. It wasn't a very spacious bed, but once Byleth had carefully taken a few long draws from the glass, Yuri curled up contently at her side all the same. The few times she had been sick in the past, Jeralt had always watched over her from a chair. Yuri's closeness was unexpected...and very intimate.
> 
> "I can think of at least a few differences. For instance: I'm livid with you."
> 
> His voice was quite the playful drawl for that to truly be the case. Yet, she couldn't deny that he would be more than justified if he were. "That's...fair. Do you always sing to people you're mad at?"
> 
> A huff from beside her. Nearly a laugh. "Only you, By. You should be honored."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah. It has been a week and some change y'all. School almost killed me, now we are in the middle of a plague. Phew. The good thing about our newly required isolation is that I have nothing but free time. This chapter is a long one. It was originally going to be longer but I separated it out into two chapters.
> 
> The song lyrics in this chapter come from Lost by Dermot Kennedy and I must thank the song I Found by Amber Run for helping me get my ass in gear enough to write the last scene. It was a struggle but I got there.
> 
> Finally, my twitter poll informed me that y'all wanted the smut to be included in the fic so uh....I will advise you that this chapter contains graphic sexual content. I know at least a few of you will be excited about that.

The world came back to Byleth in pieces.

 _The streets were remarkably empty as Odesse led her towards his lab. It felt suspicious. This whole thing was highly suspect. Yuri's harsh, judging stare came to mind unbidden. He had called her a litany of unkind names through that look, just the same way that he had begged her not to go. Still, she didn't have all her answers. There was no way she could leave without them. Not now._

 _An age old Goddess. The children of that Goddess that had been slaughtered, turned into weapons so coveted by the houses of Faerghus and the Alliance to this day. The saint who wanted naught but to revive her mother, the Goddess. Who had created homunculi for that goal. Her mother...and who knew how many others. Born to be someone other than themselves. And somehow, in the middle of all of this, her._

 _ **Something feels amiss with this explanation.** Sothis had whispered in her mind. Sothis...the Goddess herself. **Your blood does hold the Crest of Flames. The Crest Scholar confirmed as much shortly after the Rite of Rebirth. Yet, I cannot help but feel as though we are missing something.**_

 _What could could there possibly be to miss? Rhea....Seiros had done exactly what she had always wanted. She revived the soul of the Goddess within a host. Now she sought to keep her victory close, by any means possible._

 ** _No. You miss a vital point. The power of my people is said to be held in our blood. Not just our magic, but our longevity. You age, Byleth. The sun rises and falls and you gain years the same as any mortal child. Were your blood mine, would that be so?_**

 _If that was true then what was missing? Byleth and Sothis were indeed two separate souls, living within the same body. Sothis could give her counsel, could pass on her control of time. Yet, she could not, as far as they knew, act in Byleth's body as if it were her own. If Sothis's soul became the more prominent existence...or if Byleth's ceased to exist, would that change?_

 ** _Yes. Precisely. That is what we must determine._**

 _That was why Byleth followed Odesse and allowed him to draw blood from her arm. She had watched, hand tight of the grip of the Sword of the Creator, as he tested it. His enraged howl, a claim that she had tricked him, that she was a false bearer of the Crest was confirmation enough for their theory. From there, it was a blur._

Something was forced down her throat. The sharp bitterness made her gag. It chased around the oppressive heat that settled over her body, though. Not yet comfortable, but no longer dizzy from the burn. Some time later, a pressure at her side lit her nerves up once more.

 _Dodge, slash, stab. Over and over she spun, losing herself to the void that her Madame always taught her. "To kill is to remove one's self from humanity, if only for a time. Embrace the emptiness within you, child. Listen to the music." Byleth could remember it so clearly now. How her toes ached as she stood atop them, twirling and drowning out everything but the music in her ears. A dramatic song, full of bounding violins and cellos. Yet, it was easy to focus on. Easier still when the crescendo in her ears matched the smooth slice of a blade through the air, into her foes eventually. The Ashen Demon, a name bestowed to her by her fellow Spiders, did not feel pain if the legends were to be believed. In truth, Byleth did register it. The blade in her side knocked the breath from her lungs and made her vision go dark for a moment. It hurt. But the music led her away from such sensation. Break the blade off close to the wound. Move. Dance, dance, dance._

The bitter taste returned several times, but while she writhed under the discomfort of it, cool, slender fingers soothed her. She didn't have to be fully conscious to know whose touch it was. It would have shocked her more if when she opened her eyes it wasn't him, really. Byleth knew better than most how gentle and caring Yuri could be when the mood struck him. Still, being on the receiving end of that diligent treatment was not something she had anticipated.

 _The world around them had blurred into nothing but vague colors and shapes. Blood loss had made her clumsy, but how easy it had been to drown out the pain when most of her body had gone numb. She swung mindlessly at the figures that appeared before her, uncaring of their number nor their appearance. It hadn't really fazed her when they started disappearing before they met her blade. Perhaps she would have swung at him as well, had he not been a splash of pastel in a world of darkness. His voice came to her as if plunged deep under water. Byleth had no earthly idea what he was saying, but she was infinitely relieved to be in his presence._

 _Collapsing into his arms had not been her intention. The pocket of safety she found herself rejoicing in reminded her that her legs were shaking and her body was far too weak. Were they assaulted again, she lacked the strength to defend herself. Irrationally, she wanted to apologize. For being secretive. For dragging them into this. For not pulling her weight._

 _ **Save your strength. Regret is a right of the living, not the dead.**_

 _It was a difficult feat. She could register some things. A piece of leather in her mouth. Her face buried in Yuri's neck, the smell of his perfume lulling her further into the illusion of safety. His voice requesting her attention, almost constantly._

 _"Come on, By. Hang in there. Almost there. Almost there, now. Stay with me."_

 _Had he ever called her that nickname before? Byleth couldn't remember but it felt very natural, hearing it from his lips. No matter how often he called to her, her mouth was full of cotton and even parsing out what he was saying was a bother. Never did she consider that she could be dying, though. Yuri had asked her to stay with him, so she would._

Each time she drifted into awareness, she felt stronger than the time before. Once, she had opened her eyes even, but the strain of pushing her muscles to work and the blinding light had been too much. Usually, she spent her brief period of consciousness listening carefully for Yuri or the noises below her. By now, she had learned that she was in an attic. There were people around. Horses too. A woman often spoke in hushed tones to Yuri, though she never knew quite what they said. This time, she did not need to focus much on finding him.

"I could have told you 'bout the long nights

How no one loves the birds that don't rise  
So you can tell the heroes go hide  
My sense of wonder's just a little tired."

Byleth could not keep her lips from curling into a smile. He was being quiet about it, probably because he didn't want his voice carrying too far, but Yuri's singing was so lovely, all the same. It was close by, right next to her. The song trailed off then, but a hand carded through her hair. He must have known she was listening then. It really was charming how shy he was about that.

"This feels familiar." Her voice was rough, but it was nothing a sip of water and clearing her throat would not cure.

Byleth felt the bed shift as Yuri sat up to grab her a glass. It wasn't a very spacious bed, but once Byleth had carefully taken a few long draws from the glass, Yuri curled up contently at her side all the same. The few times she had been sick in the past, Jeralt had always watched over her from a chair. Yuri's closeness was unexpected...and very intimate.

"I can think of at least a few differences. For instance: I'm livid with you."

His voice was quite the playful drawl for that to truly be the case. Yet, she couldn't deny that he would be more than justified if he were. "That's...fair. Do you always sing to people you're mad at?"

A huff from beside her. Nearly a laugh. "Only you, By. You should be honored."

Ah. That nickname again. Something about how soft his voice was, paired with the heat she could feel coming off his body, which was all but pressed against hers, made her chest flutter. Opening her eyes, Byleth blearily gazed over at the man beside her. He looked worse for wear. There were dark circle under his eyes that he had made no attempt to mask with powders or creams. It was that unmasked exhaustion that told the story of just how worried he had been. "I'm sorry."

Yuri's eyes searched hers for a moment. Nodding to himself, he sighed. "I know you are. And I'd love an explanation when you're feeling better."

Everything in her mind bubbled rebelliously. No one idea seemed like the logical starting place. How did she possibly explain what she herself wasn't even sure how to describe yet? "I-"

A finger pressed gently against her lips. "Shhh. Not now. The poison did a number on you. I'm honestly surprised you woke up so soon. Heal up a bit, then I'll fully express how mad I am."

Byleth wasn't sure which explanation would be better received: that part of her assassin training was being poisoned constantly for months or that the Goddess inside of her may have improved her healing rate with her presence.

 **Your ability to fret over such things is just as amusing as it is sad,** Sothis yawned. **If your Rat Prince were the type to flee, he would have done so already.**

Smiling to herself, Byleth admired the man before her. She supposed that Sothis, at least on some level, had to be right. Still, she had no idea how he was handling all that they had learned in Shambhala. Throwing more oil on that fire felt dangerous. Instead, she asked, "Where are we?"

"Trolde." Her eyes widened. That was more than a week's trip from Shambhala. Judging by Yuri's wry smirk, he had read her train of thought. "Hapi warped us here. The herbalist helped me clear the poison from your system and mend your wounds properly." Yuri's eyes wandered down to her stomach, expression souring. "They'll scar though. Sorry."

How many scars already lined her body? Judging from her current state of dress in a large night gown, likely borrowed from one of the village women, it was very likely that Yuri knew already. If not from helping to clean her up, then from when they had bathed in a river or lake along the way. To her, scars had never been a point of shame. They were a story one could see on your skin. A tally of your battles won and life lived. These marks would tell the tale of a journey spent in search of truth with a group of people that had become her family, searching for a truth that would perhaps change history, but definitely changed her. Her smile was serene when she reached out a hand across the space between them, palm up. "It's alright. It'll be a good reminder."

Yuri looked down at her hand, chin still propped up on one palm, the other resting lazily at his side. "To not run off on your own, get stabbed and worry your friends half to death?"

"That I got the great Yuri Leclerc to play nursemaid for me."

Giving in with a soft grin, Yuri reached out and took her hand. The angle was a bit strange, but they fit well, fingers laced together. That weird sensation in her chest came back. It was nice to hold his hand. "Well, you played nursemaid for me once. It's only fair that I play the role to the best of my ability."

Right. Byleth had almost forgotten. Back when all of this began, the only reason Byleth had asked Yuri to join her on this ill advised trip of hers was because he insisted on repaying her for healing his wounds back in the Sealed Forest. Dread forced her voice to no more than a whisper. "Are we even now?"

Even if accompanying her had not been enough to rid him of his debts, then this surely would. Byleth was under no illusions. Her actions had endangered the lives of her dearest friends. She herself had nearly been killed. Even now, Yuri had yet to confirm whether the others were well and whole. Yuri had quite literally carried her away from the wreckage her desire for knowledge had wrought. If he had told her back in the forest that her request was far too outrageous, she would have accepted that and carried on alone. But he hadn't. So too would she accept it if he walked away now.

Byleth had absolutely no idea what to do with the deep, aching fear that idea sparked in her heart. 

Yuri's lavender eyes were magnetic. He gazed so intently at her, for a moment she was sure he could see into her soul. If he could, Byleth hoped that he could make more sense out of the tangle of emotions swirling around in her than she could. Yuri had always been far better at reading her than most other people, though. There was something in his expression when he scooted closer to her, drawing nearer until his head rested beside her own on the downy pillow. He kept her hand in his, squeezing, as if to comfort her. It was interesting how he could soothe her worries and release a hive of hornets into her guts simultaneously. This close, she could see the specks of blue in his irises. Could admire how long his eyelashes were. Every breath he took caressed her lips gently. If they were any closer...

There was nothing teasing in that expression, though. Yuri, the master of disguise and shape shifter extraordinaire, was maskless before her. A wolf showing her its underbelly. Byleth swallowed, leaning her head forward until their foreheads were pressed together. 

When Yuri spoke, it was soft. Whispered like a secret meant for her ears and no one else's. "I stopped keeping score awhile ago."

Byleth's eyes slipped closed, warmth building at the corner of them. To anyone else, that may not have meant much, but she understood. Back in the forest, Byleth had said something similar to him. Despite the literal implications, she had also meant to relay a different idea: Yuri didn't need to question her intentions. Even though he had given her quite the scare with that "midnight date turned blood ritual" nonsense, she was helping him because she wanted to. There was no debt in her mind. And now, he had reciprocated that subtext. Despite all she had put him through, he was with her by choice. That mysterious feeling flared in her chest, so hot and undeniable that it almost brought her to tears. Yuri's hand squeezed hers, urging her to look at him again.

Oh, she realized, seeing her bare, fledgling hope reflected in his eyes. Oh.

She was _in love_ with him.

 **Hmph. Certainly took you long enough.**

Byleth felt like she should say something, but words were still not her greatest ally. All she could offer him was a squeeze of his hand and a grateful smile. For the moment at least, that seemed to be enough. They fell asleep that night with their heads a breath apart, hands still clasped together. It was the most restful sleep Byleth could remember having in quite awhile.

-x-x-x-

The fortunate part about the monastery being woefully understaffed was that there was not an abundance of surveillance on the students, nor their movements. After a few short days making plans and arrangements with Professor Manuela, both the forces of the Blue Lions and Black Eagles had amassed themselves and prepared to march. They did not bother informing anyone of their departure. In this case, it would likely be best to ask for forgiveness, rather than permission. Not that Lady Rhea was likely to care one way or another. 

At the moment, she only had eyes for the Golden Deer anyway. 

It sickened Dimitri to know that while he and Edelgard would venture forth to save a town of defenseless civilians, Claude was being groomed to murder Professor Byleth and the Ashen Wolves. Any doubts he had about the other Deer knowing of their mission were erased the longer he spent watching them train. Their drills consisted of unmistakably specific tasks. Incapacitating brawlers so that they could not take advantage of their speed. Shooting down Pegasi. Using spiked lances advantageous against cavalry to down horseback enemies with extensive range. Trapping agile enemies in disadvantageous terrain to manage them better. 

Dodging attacks from a whip.

Felix had joined him in his observation of their training once. It was rare. Felix seldom wanted to be within 7 feet of Dimitri, but in the last month, that sharp distaste had seemed to dull, if only a bit. Perhaps it was the fact that he had an audience for once, or maybe it was the disturbing visual of Raphael wrapping that chain whip around his arm to neutralize it while Lorenz charged in to eliminate its wielder. Something about that scene made him loosen his lips.

"Do they not see what they're doing? Who they're training so hard to conquer?"

Dimitri had tried to put himself in Claude's shoes. Truly he had. It just didn't make sense to him. This odd behavior had started before the Battle of Eagle and Lion. Yet no matter how often he poked Claude about it, the only answer the other man gave him was that they simply had wanted to test their strength. It was a lie. A poor one. Without knowing what had sparked this whole debacle, Dimitri simply couldn't sympathize with Claude's seemingly spontaneous decision to dedicate his entire being to this cause. Yes, Hilda's life was of the upmost concern. But if they put their heads together, could they not find a solution that didn't involve pointing their blades at a woman who, to their knowledge, had done nothing wrong?

Claude's response had been mocking. _"And what would you have done in my place? If she had dragged you and Dedue into the audience chamber and said in no uncertain terms that it was obey or perish, if her blade was kissing Dedue's throat...what would you have done? Draw your blade against Rhea? With Catherine and Thunderbrand at her side? Heh. You and what army, Dimitri?"_

Him and what army indeed.

"Of course they do," Felix answered, surprising Dimitri out of his thoughts. "More than any of us, they know who they're dealing with. They've seen her in action. She taught them most of what they know and their second in command is out of commission. They're starting at a disadvantage. And the Ashen Wolves aren't a group to take lightly either, from what Ashe has said. Realistically, this is the least they can do to prepare for such a fight."

Felix's innate battle sense and evaluative skills never ceased to amaze him. For a man whose main strategy was always "win", Felix was remarkably good at reading and analyzing fighting styles. He could tell if someone was having an off day from the way they held their blade. Still, to hear him so apathetically describe what it would take to win against Byleth...

"You know, Felix...you may call me a beast all you want. I've never denied that there is truth in your appraisal of my character. But, I at least do not agree with this senseless conflict. This is wrong. No one should be training to defeat Professor Byleth. Least of all her own damn students!"

Dimitri braced himself for the backlash. It wouldn't have been totally unexpected to hear the unsheathing of a blade in rebuke for his outburst. Felix had a remarkably short fuse around him on the best of days. Yet, his childhood friend only spared him a critical glance before focusing once more on the Golden Deer. 

"I don't like it either," he admitted. "Claude seems hell bent on following this path though. So what else are they supposed to do?" The underlying frustration in Felix's voice gave Dimitri pause. It dawned on him for the first time that Felix may have spoken to some of the Golden Deer about this whole thing. After all, he had been known to sit and listen to Lysithea chat with Annette and Mercedes every once in awhile. He and Leonie had sparred together ever since Byleth disappeared. Perhaps that was it. Sylvain had idly mentioned that he wouldn't mind joining the Golden Deer class for lessons if Byleth was going to be instructing them. Ingrid had nearly torn him a new one over it. But, come to think of it, Sylvain's defense for himself was that Felix was far more likely to transfer than he was. It hadn't ever come to pass, but Dimitri did recall seeing Felix and Byleth spar quite frequently back then. How careless of him. Dimitri was so used to Felix pushing him away that he hadn't even noticed that Felix himself must have been missing her too all this time.

How aware was Felix that he had only narrowly missed being included in the list of people held responsible for capturing or killing someone Felix cared about?

Dimitri didn't have to ask. He knew. And it left a hollow kind of guilt in his chest. "What are _we_ supposed to do?" he wondered glumly.

Felix scoffed, shooting him an unimpressed glare. If Dimitri's eyes weren't deceiving him, he'd say it almost looked fond. "Depends. What are you fighting for, Boar Prince?" Dimitri stared dumbly at Felix for a moment, unsure how to answer. That reaction seemed to be the exact one Felix had been shooting for. "Byleth asked me that once. It's taken me awhile to come up with a satisfactory answer, but I think I have it now. That clarity will guide my blade. I know who my enemy is." Felix turned to face him with a resolved expression. "Do you?"

There was no answer Dimitri could generate in the time it took for Felix to bore of their starring contest and turn to leave. He watched his childhood friend walk away, in awe of how grounded the man seemed. When had that happened?

Dimitri turned that question over and over in his mind as they readied themselves to leave. His enemies. His reason for fighting. It bothered him that he couldn't be totally sure he could identify them. All he knew was that he had only woken up each morning since Duscur with the desire to avenge his parents, his friends, the person he once was. That felt wretchedly removed from this situation with the Church. Which was more important to him? Which was more pressing? 

Dimitri could only hope that the answers would become more apparent as he marched along this bloody path before him.

Claude came to see them off. The dark circles under his eyes had only grown more distressing. Dimitri's heart ached for his friend. He feared leaving him behind, but knew they had no choice. When they next were together, would Claude be the same man he was now? 

Would Dimitri?

This cruel fate they seemed to be wrapped irrevocably in sought to twist it's vile fingers into them, rending them from their sanity and morality. As a united front, Dimitri knew they could overcome it. They could fight back and find a path to a future they could be proud of. They just had to hold on until then, to not lose themselves to the demons threatening to swallow them whole.

As he and Edelgard set off towards Remire, Dimitri sent off a prayer to the Goddess to sustain them and grant them strength. He wasn't very religious, but it was worth a shot.

-x-x-x-

Time had passed strangely ever since they left Shambhala. 

Yuri wasn't sure if it was due to the physical and magical strain of being warped over a week's journey in the span of moments, or if small village life was just like that compared to the hustle and bustle he was used to. It was likely a combination of both. He'd never freely admit that he spent the first minute or two in Trolde helplessly puking his guts up. If not for Eva, the wonderful herbalist who he was so far in debt to now he didn't even want to think about it, he would have collapsed into his own sick and Byleth may have died. Which surely wasn't an image that haunted his dreams at night. No. Not at all.

It took three full days to get Byleth stable. It was touch and go for far longer than Yuri was comfortable with. Byleth was having trouble breathing even after two doses of anti-toxin. Eva had warned him that she did not know the quality or potency of the poison and that a generic antidote could only achieve so much. The only thing they could do was help her through the worst of it until her body could fight it off. Yuri's hands had shook too hard to even hold a glass of water as he sat, hopelessly listening to her weak gasps throughout the first night. Hapi had managed to get them there but who knew if she was healthy herself after using so much magic. Balthus and Constance were strong, but having to take care of each other and Hapi potentially? There was a very real possibility than when the sun rose the next morning, Yuri would have lost all four of them.

He had never been that terrified before in his whole life.

Yuri forced himself to stay awake until the poison was cleared from Byleth's system. Eva had urged him to rest. Said he was no use to anyone if he was hallucinating from lack of sleep. Yuri brushed her off. No amount of shut eye would let his body and mind truly rest until he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Byleth was safe. The herbalist had smiled sadly at him, muttering something about young lovers being fools before she went. He didn't try to argue with her. How could he?

There had been too many emotions in such a short period of time to categorize them all productively. He meant what he told Byleth when he said he was livid. At some point, once she wasn't in immediate danger anymore, he had been. He paced back and forth in the small attic like a madman, drafting over thirty versions of a snarling argument, full fire and brimstone, where he would tear into that idiotic woman and make her see exactly how much she had hurt him. Yuri had to properly express just how much this had effected him. He couldn't even sleep unless it was in the same bed as her, where he could hear her breathing and feel the warmth of her skin, for fuck's sake. But when Byleth first stirred herself awake two days later, all of that had left Yuri in a rush, leaving behind only relief.

Having Byleth back in the realm of the living did wonders for his mental health, but there was still the very large issue of the others being missing to occupy his mind. Yuri knew that their pace up the mountains had been brisk, hurried by their need to distance themselves from any chasing Knights. But when one week turned into two, the pit in his stomach was enough to keep him up again. Those nights, it was Byleth comforting him. She had only just gotten cleared to walk around again. Lifting anything of any weight was banned by their watchful host, but they could at least occupy themselves by going on strolls. 

Yuri fully expected the people of Trolde to resent them for putting them in danger last time. Strangely, it seemed quite the opposite. The men who worked the fields expressed that they thought it was cowardly of the Knights to try and bully the people of Fodlan into turning them in. The children still adored them both and hung on every word they said. This small town, only meant to be a stop along the way, was home to so many good memories of his now. That included Byleth tucking his head into her shoulder and singing to him gently to help him sleep. Sometimes, when the mood struck him, he'd even return the favor. They didn't speak of Shambhala. It was an unspoken agreement that they would wait for the others. While Byleth was handling it better than he was, Yuri knew he wasn't the only one concerned.

When a familiar Pegasus caught their eye near the end of one of their walks, Yuri couldn't really be blamed for getting a bit emotional over it.

They all looked worse for wear. Hapi was barely sitting up straight on her horse, held in place only by Balthus who rode behind her. Constance's hair was a tangled mess, from the wind and some blood that she promised wasn't hers. Balthus was his usual chipper self once he was offered a tankard of ale. He seemed utterly unconcerned by the girls who begged for baths and then at least three days to just collapse and not be forced to move. Yuri granted it to them gladly. They all needed a breather, really. And what was another week in the grand scheme of things?

Reuniting had put Yuri in a particularly good mood. That much was apparent to anyone that looked at him and he did nothing to disguise that fact. The last two weeks, he had not bothered to put any makeup on. It was too much of a hassle when all he planned to do was lounge around in bed all day and talk to Byleth. It didn't feel much like putting on a mask when he did it this time, but rather building himself back up. If he wasn't feeling so run down anymore, he shouldn't look that way. Byleth's smile when she watched him paint that familiar magenta hue onto his eyelids told him she understood that. 

His jovial disposition brought with it more energy to consider things he had been sweeping under the rug as well. Such as his and Byleth's still unexplored relationship shift. There was no sense in denying it. Yuri would have been more surprised (and disappointed) if they went completely back to the way things were after an ordeal like they had faced in Shambhala. The age old saying that "you don't know what you have until it's gone" was unfortunately accurate. Any hesitation he had over the idea of confessing to Byleth had up and vanished the moment she collapsed, half dead, in his arms. His concerns about getting his heart broken were still valid, but it was hard to think of them as rational. It was obvious that Byleth cared about him at this point. Plain as day, really. Yuri still wanted it to be Byleth's choice to start something, but the more he considered it, the more he came to the conclusion that Balthus was right. She was probably just as unsure of how to proceed as he was.

No time like the present to give them a little push in the right direction.

"You know," he drawled, as they climbed the stairs back to their room in the attic of Eva's shack. "There's something that's been on my mind lately." They could have gotten a room in the alehouse too, but it felt unnecessary. Given his current plans, it also seemed counterproductive. Eva didn't live in the clinic. Her and her wife shared a place with their adopted children halfway across the town. Here, they would have all the privacy they could ever want.

Byleth cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. Another benefit of their extended rest was the lack of armor. It felt rather domestic, spending their days wandering around in loose shirts. It also didn't hurt that Byleth was still inexplicably a fan of tiny shorts and patterned leggings. Yuri couldn't explain how difficult it was to restrain his hands from wandering the length of those legs when they laid in bed. He was hoping that soon, that wouldn't be necessary.

Laying back on the bed with a sigh, he chose his words carefully. "When Eva first took us in, she called you my lover, you know." Byleth didn't seem particularly surprised by that announcement, but she did give him a questioning gaze. "Plenty of the folk in town have made the same assumption. I thought it would be more of a scandal. Two unmarried love birds nesting in the attic above the herbalist's shop? Sounds like something out of a two bit romance novel doesn't it?"

If Byleth understood the thread her was pulling at here, she didn't show it. "Wasn't aware that you were fond of that type of literature." It was an interesting diversion, but he wasn't about to let her change the subject.

"It has it's uses. They're entertaining stories, for one. Born from the fantasies of people who dream of being whisked away into some illicit affair. It's not so unrelatable of a topic, is it?"

"I suppose not. It's just not something I thought you'd take a genuine interest in. Much like what opinions others have about you." Byleth drew closer, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Yuri failed to repress a smirk. Maybe she wasn't quite as dense as he thought. Still, he couldn't quite parse out if she was uninterested or trying to draw a more straightforward answer out of him. His next words were a bit more honest than he intended, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "Of course I'm interested in it. Doesn't everyone want someone to love them?"

Byleth's stare was a heavy, evaluative. He couldn't blame her for approaching this cautiously. He just wasn't the type to come right out and admit to something like this. All he could do was hope she saw through his bullshit and understood. "I guess I can't argue with that. There are many types of love though. The love of a friend can be just as fulfilling as that of a lover. Or, so I imagine."

"That's true. It must seem somewhat avaricious of me to covet something beyond friendship when I've been blessed with such loyal and steadfast friends," Yuri admitted, one of his hands reaching out to brush along the back of Byleth's. This was all a bit too on the nose. If he had started this conversation meaning to keep his cards close to his chest, he certainly hadn't managed to keep to that strategy. The healthy dose of fear of rejection made the rush of the chase a bit more exciting.

Byleth's eyes followed his fingertips as they traced patterns along her knuckles. "Friends like me?"

Yuri met the lilac gaze of the woman before him as he nodded. "Yeah. Friends like you." The duality of what he said and what he did would have made him laugh if he wasn't so nervous. Balthus surely would have watched this game of cat and mouse with rapt attention and no shortage of frustration. Yuri honestly wasn't sure what he would do with himself if the hefty subtext of this conversation managed to fly over her head. Probably throw himself off a cliff or something of the like. 

Luckily, he didn't have to agonize over that much. Yuri's breathing came faster when Byleth took the bait, crawling onto the bed after him and straddling his waist. It was so bold of her. So delicious. The solid weight of her atop him nearly made him shiver. Yuri almost called her bluff. It would have been effortless to smirk and close himself off with his silver tongue and sharp wit. His show of vulnerability was well rewarded though. Byleth leaned over him, running a finger over his lips, smudging his lip gloss. "And if I don't wanna be friends?"

Yuri tilted his head back, lips parting sensually. Byleth peeled his bottom lip back, pressing her nail to it just enough to sting. "Prove it," he breathed. "Tell me what you want instead. Show me."

Lilac eyes flirted between his lips and eyes, conflict and desire warring within them. For a second, Yuri was worried she'd draw away. They'd been dancing this tango an agonizingly long amount of time now. Yuri knew she wanted it, he knew. Each time he stepped into her orbit, she had melted against him so gorgeously. It was almost obscene how close they'd been to the line between friends and something more. Yuri didn't want to push her over. Not her. It had to be her choice.

But, fuck, he was so tired of waiting. For all the carnal pleasure he'd shared with others over the years, he could not recall a single time where he wanted a kiss so badly. Yuri was a prideful man, but he felt no shame in whispering "please" into the space between them.

All that carefully kept restraint shattered in front of his eyes and Byleth finally, finally closed the gap between them. The first touch of her lips on his was ambrosia. No other kiss had tasted as sweet. Yuri couldn't help the moan that escaped him when Byleth slipped her fingers up and into his hair. At this noise, she pulled, just a bit. Goddess, that woman really knew what buttons to push. Yuri arched his back, pressing the entire length of his body against hers. More. Closer. Harder. He'd never be satisfied.

From the frenzied way her mouth was consuming his, it seemed that Byleth shared his desperate need. Yuri smiled into their next kiss, tongue snaking out to trace her bottom lip. That suited him just fine. More than fine really. It was intoxicating. He was used to people wanting him. Wanting to mess up his pretty face and fuck him til he couldn't bite back (it never happened, but they always tried). Those touches were always so detached. Like they were touching an object, not a person. But, now, when he pressed harder into a caress, the hand that delivered such pressure adjusted its grip to stimulate that spot more. When he opened his mouth around a sigh, Byleth pressed closer, licking the roof of his mouth until he trembled and sighed again. She was learning what he liked and giving it to him. She wanted _him_. Not his porcelain mask. Not what he could do for her in return. Him.

And fuck, he wanted her too. More than anything.

No longer content to sit there and let her ravish him, Yuri slipped a leg around hers, yanking her off balance and pushing them into a roll. When they settled, her hair spread like an ocean over the pillow and both her thighs still hooked over his waist, Yuri couldn't stop himself from grinding into her core with a grin. The woman beneath him gasped sweetly, tightening her legs' hold on him. That bliss on her face...he wanted her to look like that always. He wanted to shake that bottle up until it popped. One of her hands snaked up to press her thumb to his lip again, an interest habit that definitely made more heat flood to his member. Yuri's hips bucked against her again, in need of friction.

"Oh," she sighed, pulling at his arm until he lowered his torso to press against hers. Yuri licked at her thumb, amused by her speechlessness. "I messed up your lipstick."

A shiver tore through him at her breathless observation. That wasn't exactly news. He could feel the sticky weight of it down the side of his mouth, on his chin. Hell, Byleth was even wearing some of the pink sheen at this point. Still, it was so incredibly cute how remorseful she sounded. Kissing her hand sweetly, Yuri purred, "Oh, sweetheart. That's what its there for."

The inkling of concern stayed furrowed across her brow. "You don't mind? Even though you spend so much time on it?"

Cute. Too cute. Leaning down, Yuri pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. As he drew back, he pulled her bottom pursed lip between his own, tugging just enough to hear her gasp again. "If it's permission you're looking for," he whispered, trailing kisses down her face to her neck. "It's all yours, darling." Byleth tilted her head back obediently, making some quiet noises in the back of her throat when his teeth dragged across her pulse point. " _I'm_ all yours. You don't have to feel shy about your desires with me. I want to look as wrecked as I feel when we've had our fill of each other," he promised, licking a line up her ear. Byleth's nails dug into his back through his clothes. It made his breathing pick up. Those nails would feel glorious against his bare skin. "Just know that I fully intend to give as good as I get."

Byleth laughed breathlessly, pushing him back just enough to kiss him again. "I expect nothing less from you, Yuri."

Despite the heat raging between them, their pace was much slower than Yuri was accustomed to. It wasn't bad, just different. The last time he had spent so long just kissing someone, he had been a twelve or so year old boy, newly healed of a plague that should have killed him, who thought the idea of making out in the barn was the most exciting thing in the universe. It made him feel alive. This feeling wasn't quite the same. Yuri still felt that they were progressing towards something more heated. Byleth had managed to unbutton his outer coat and peel that and his shirt from his chest. In return, he had given her bare breasts a rather boyish starry eyed look which was well worth the laugh she gave him. Yuri had never really had much of a preference between men and women, but...damn. He really couldn't be blamed for spending the greater part of ten minutes just appreciating her chest. Any sensible human being would.

Byleth was a lot more sensitive than he anticipated too, which only sweetened the deal. He dug his thumbs into the sore skin and muscle beneath her breasts, smiling into her collarbone as she sighed in relaxation. Yuri made a mental note to give her back that same treatment soon. Maybe before round two. Or three. He pressed a loving kiss to every scar and blemish he came across. It did not surprise him that there were many. It had made him proud when she told him they were reminders of her victories. That resilience was part of what he adored about her. That desperate need had mellowed significantly in the time he had spent tending to her, but it kicked right back up when his thumb accidentally brushed her nipple. The noise she made was small, but it tempted him with the promise of more enthusiastic responses.

Eyes locked onto hers, Yuri slowly brought his lips down to capture one of those hardened peaks into his mouth. The effect was instantaneously gratifying. Byleth's arched her hips with a hum, seeking friction. Yuri gladly gave it to her, slipping one hand down between her thighs. His fingers trailed down her warm thighs towards her center slowly, accented by him laving his tongue against the nub gently. The keen he got in answer made his groin ache. He cocked a brow at her, asking for her approval. Byleth shivered and whimpered, "Please." Even through her shorts, Yuri could tell she was wet. He had to take a deep breath through his nose to calm himself a bit, before working the heel of his palm into her snatch. The combination of stimulation to her two most sensitive areas was enough to break away some of her restraint. Byleth's hips rolled happily against his ministrations, pressing her chest closer to his face with small, but thrilling gasps and sighs. Yuri gladly gave her nipples all the attention she could handle with his lips, tongue and teeth. The twitching and jerking of her hips building made him flush with the very real possibility of getting her off so soon into their foreplay. 

"Mm. So responsive. I bet I could make you cum like that," Yuri grinned, breathless himself. Despite the pulsing ache in his own pants, he sort of wanted to try.

Byleth shifted her hips against his hand, eyes unfocused. "I wouldn't know," she huffed, rubbing herself contently.

"What? No one's ever that that idea before?" 

"Well, no." Byleth's eyes drifted away from his, expression becoming a bit somber. It gave Yuri pause. At his inquisitive look, Byleth shrugged her shoulders almost helplessly. "I haven't experienced that at all."

Brows raised, Yuri asked carefully, "You've never laid with anyone before?"

"No. I have. I just haven't...finished." Byleth looked sheepish as she admitted it.

That was even worse. Part of him wanted to ask what uselessly low lives she had wasted her time with, but the much larger whole of him said he had no desire to know that answer. The only thing that would come from that would be an intense urge to hunt them down and teach them some respect. And that wouldn't fix the problem anyway. He certainly didn't want the memories of his unpleasant sexual encounters bouncing around in his head when he was with Byleth, so why force her to endure it? Besides, this problem was one he was entirely capable of fixing.

And fix it he would.

Yuri relished how her body tensed when he gave her a predator's grin. "Well, now. That just won't do. Allow me to correct that injustice for you."

As Yuri left his station at her chest and journeyed lower, Byleth managed to shakily argue, "Not very equal is it? Me lying here doing nothing while you please me. I want you to feel good too."

"Trust me, I will." Yuri placed a wet kiss to her navel, just below her belly button. Then another to the still tender scar at her side. "If you want, you can have me lay back and take anything you want to give me later. But right now, it's your turn."

Never mind the fact that her unexpected vocal reactions to his efforts were doing more for him than some physical touches he had received. He did not say that though.

Unbuttoning her shorts, and peeking up at her again for her consent, Yuri purred, "May I?"

Byleth smiled and raised her hips in answer, letting him drag her shorts, tights and small clothes down her thighs in one bunch. Yuri discovered very quickly that he had been right about her level of excitement. Her small clothes were positively drenched. This particular activity, regardless of the gender of his partner, had always been a bit repugnant to him. It was a power play, a display of dominance. Yuri despised being vulnerable, either physically or emotionally, to anyone who would use it to their benefit. There were no pleasant memories of his face between someone else's legs. Now, though, when the smell of aroused woman reached his nose, it made his mouth water. He had originally planned to get her off once or twice with his fingers, but...

Well, he was nothing if not thorough with his plans.

Yuri didn't bother freeing her legs from their cloth prison. Once they had cleared her knees, Yuri fit himself into the circle of her legs, resting those powerful thighs atop his shoulders. Byleth fisted a hand into the sheets, anticipation drawing her body taught like a bow string. Yuri couldn't resist teasing her, just a bit. Turning his head to the side, he pressed his lips against the flesh of her thigh, sucking a bruise into the fair skin. He could hear the air leave Byleth's lungs all at once at the sharp bite. Smiling wickedly, he gave the other leg the same treatment. It was fun, he thought, a game he wouldn't ever bore of. She made it enjoyable to seek out the right buttons to push to draw sweet moans and hums from her chest. Seeing a mark that he made on her skin, proof of their union and feelings, was also making his blood far hotter than he wanted to admit. Yuri was just about to start working on another hickey when Byleth slid a hand into his hair with a soft, "Please. No more teasing."

How could he deny such an earnest request?

Parting her lips, Yuri drew a slow, long lick up her slit, swirling his tongue around the swollen nub at the apex. Byleth's hips pressed gently into his caresses, not the insistent greed he had grown unfortunately used to, but a silent plea for more. It made him a bit desperate to push her towards that precipice. He wanted her to lose that composure she was still clinging to. If it was her, he didn't mind being used like a toy to get someone off. Yuri redoubled his efforts, pressing his mouth eagerly against her, tongue tracing shapes into her clit. It wasn't difficult to lose himself in his work. Byleth rewarded him generously, back arching and legs shaking around him. Her cries were soft, quiet still, but they were music to his ears. Hands grasping her ass, Yuri enjoyed the puzzle of figuring out what patterns bought him the best reactions. He was just starting to find a rhythm that worked well, fast fleeting touched followed by slow, firm contact, when Byleth reached down to grip his hair instead of the sheets. Shocks of pleasure shot through him at the tug, making him moan wantonly into her. By the time he fully came back to himself, Byleth's legs were shaking wildly around his neck, gasping moans filling the air. His lips worked against her through her ecstasy, ceasing only when her body slumped back, boneless against the bed.

Drawing back a bit, Yuri rested his face on her thigh and panted, "Heh. You know, I've eaten many meals in my time, but this is divine. What's your verdict, darling?"

From this angle, Yuri couldn't see her face. Instead he watched her chest rise and fall, pleased to have stunned her into silence, no matter how temporary it would be. After a moment, Byleth called, "Yuri."

He blinked at her serious tone. Swallowing stiffly, he hedged, "Uh, yeah?" Had he crossed a line? Did she try to tell him and he simply missed it? 

Before the panic could settle in, her hand found its way back into his hair. Byleth sat up, propped up on her elbow. She was a mess. Hair in hectic disarray, a flush running from her cheeks to her breast bone, lips bitten and kissed cherry red. Yuri _loved_ it. She tightened her grip on the lavender strands, eyes narrowed. When she spoke, it was undoubtedly a command. "More."

Heat tore through Yuri's body, setting the flutter in his stomach to a boil. It took him by surprise. He didn't think he had a kink for being bossed around but...well, evidently he was wrong. Meeting that commandeering glare with a mischievous grin, Yuri purred, "Yes ma'am."

Byleth held him in place as he coaxed two more orgasms from her. By the second, his tongue and jaw were screaming in agony from overexertion, but the woman before him didn't seem to mind the addition of his fingers to pick up the slack. If anything, she was pleased by the pressure of his three fingers working her open while he sucked and licked at her clit. Yuri wasn't sure he had another one in him, at least not from his mouth. Still, it deeply satisfied him that she was being so...greedy. After the past few months of dangling over the edge of friends and lovers, he luxuriated in such bold, unapologetic desire for him. There were a couple moments, fleeting, where the shadow of his past experiences had nicked at his heels, whispering that he was nothing but a fuck toy to her. But before they could ever take root, Byleth found a way to soothe them. Stroking his face adoringly, whispering how good it was, even just happily sighing his name. 

It helped immensely when she did not fight him when he sat up after her third peak. She shot him a dazed, but warm smile when he cracked his neck with a relieved groan. Sitting up on his haunches like that, Yuri realized for the first time in...awhile that he was still wearing his pants. The ache in his groin had not ceased but it wasn't anything particularly pressing to him at the moment. Byleth was the picture of gratification right now. A wave of pride settled over him, knowing that he had been the cause of her contagious contentment. He wouldn't have been gutted if all she had the energy for was cuddling then sleep. Yuri was more than capable of addressing his own needs discretely then joining her again.

As if sensing his debate, Byleth struggled to kick her shorts, still hung around her ankles, to the floor. "Your turn," she announced, stretching her shoulders out. Her movements were unhurried, almost sluggish, as she scooted towards him, mouth aiming for a kiss.

Yuri turned his head, peppering her cheek with quick kisses. "You sure you wanna do that? You know where my mouth has been." 

Raising a brow, Byleth's eyes raked over his form. A bit of that hunger from before reignited in her lilac eyes. "I remember. Vividly. Kiss me now, please?"

Not the squeamish type about this either then. Good. Only an hour at most had passed, but Yuri had the ridiculous thought that he had missed kissing her. They melted against each other effortlessly, her fingers tracing his jaw like it was made of glass and his nails scratching at the sensitive spots on her scalp. The feeling of their chests pressed together was heavenly. Their movements were not hurried, yet his desire for her did not flag. Yuri did recall saying that if she let him take good care of her, he would allow her to return the favor. Thus, he did not dispute her working his tight pants off of him. Yuri let her guide him to sit up against the wall, welcoming her eagerly into his lap. He had honestly expected to lose himself to the stroke of her hand, quick and efficient. While he had not anticipated connecting with her fully this eve, it was far from unwanted.

"I don't mind doing all the work, you know," he hummed into a kiss as she settled herself over his member. Yuri ran his thumb over the still pink scar on her side. "You're still recovering from an injury."

"Yuri," she cooed, sucking the words right off his tongue in a kiss that made his toes curl. "I appreciate your concern, but I am not nearly so fragile."

Yuri smiled, running his nose up the length of her neck. "Trust me, I know. As your assigned nursemaid though, your health is my upmost concern. It wouldn't do for you to set back your healing just to ride me into the rafters."

Placing a small kiss on his nose, Byleth asserted, "It would be worth it."

Yuri's laugh caught in throat, morphing into a breathy moan as Byleth slide down to take him inside of her. This position was a first for Yuri. Most of the quick, passionless fucks he'd had in the past favored far less dignified positions. Yuri could readily admit that he liked this one quite a lot though. It was wonderful being able to lean forward and steal a kiss or five, to press his hands against the plains of her back or fondle her breasts freely. Yuri himself was rather restrained in his ability to move his hips, but he wasn't exactly looking for a fast paced romp anyway. The tight heat of her around him, gyrating languidly as they explored each other's skin was already about as much as he could handle. Yuri adored the weight of her supple bottom in his hands, using his grip to adjust her angle to hit that spot that made her back arch and her eyes lose focus. The drag of her nipples along his chest made goosebumps prickle all over his skin. And Goddess, kissing her...he didn't think it would ever get old.

Their climb to the knife's edge of pleasure was languorous at best. It was almost disappointing when that familiar heat flared a bit too hot in his navel. This whole time, Yuri hadn't really been thinking about getting off. Strange considering the idea that most sex was a means to that end. Not here though. Yuri could have stayed in that bubble of soft, unhurried intimacy forever and never grown bored. In many ways, it felt like this was his first time. And maybe it was. This was the first time Yuri was sleeping with someone he loved. Someone that loved him back. No matter how euphoric it was to lose himself in the throes of passion, nothing would ever top the comfort it brought him to be in the arms of his beloved.

Fuck, this whole being in love thing was making him sappy.

When they'd cleaned up a bit, gotten cozy in bed curled up together and the sweat had cooled on their skin, Yuri let himself spill some of the thoughts circling around in his brain. "You know, I'm really not complaining, but that wasn't how I pictured this going."

Raising a brow, Byleth mused back, "Is there a different response to being asked to show someone how you feel about them?"

"Plenty. A flowery confession or even just a chaste kiss would have sufficed."

The look on her face told him that she highly doubted either of them would have been as satisfied with those options. In response to his cheeky grin, Byleth only shrugged and nuzzled her head further into his neck. "I like our way better."

Yuri couldn't agree more.

At some point, it would be good to cement this fledgling relationship between them in words. To discuss their plans for the future and decide how they were going to fit into those visions. It felt a bit off tempo to be thinking of nebulous things like marriage and the future, but they weren't exactly a typical pair. Life had a way of being cruel. There was no telling where this winding road would lead them. The end point wasn't important. As long as Byleth was with him, they'd figure it out.

They always did.

-x-x-x-

Remire was a bloody mess.

From Professor Manuela's description of the situation, Dimitri knew it would be bad. How could it not be? Villagers falling ill with a fever and awakening with an unquenchable blood lust? Without the support of the Knights, there was nothing the civilians of Remire could do except try to quarantine the afflicted. They had gotten rather fortunate with their timing. The breaking point had come only a day before their arrival. One of those guarding the quarantine zone had succumb to the illness quietly and without warning. That man's rage freed the others who set upon the town with a single minded cruelty. 

Still, in only the full day it took them to arrive, half the village had burned to the ground and more than a third of the unaffected citizens had been slain by their neighbors. It was deplorable. Even more so, when Edelgard came to the same conclusion Dimitri had been afraid of.

"It's magic," she announced stoically, but the furrow of her brow told the story of her distress. "No virus could have done this."

Tears trailed down Professor Manuela's face and she agreed shakily. "Yes. I do believe you're correct."

It was a double edged sword. On the one hand, at least the cause was something they could dispell, given they could find the caster. Alas, the other side of that coin was that some bastard had knowingly destroyed the lives of over a hundred people. And for what?

Dimitri's gut told him that this was too similar to be a coincidence. The tale of the Tragedy of Duscur was that the people of Duscur had launched an assault against King Lambert, his father, and their escort. Had slaughtered them all. His father and step mother, their personal, well trained guards...Glenn. All but Dimitri himself. That wasn't how Dimitri remembered it though. As the sole survivor, it became hard for Dimitri to parse together what had been trauma induced nightmare and what was real. The one thing he wouldn't let anyone dissuade him from was the vivid memory of a man in his Father's service collapsing from a sudden headache, then cutting down one of his friends with a savage grin. There had been no explanation for it, which was mostly why so many people, Rodrigue included, wondered how factual it was. Dimitri knew though.

And this...this was eerily reminiscent of that horrific scene.

They had long since decided that their primary goal would be to protect the civilians. It came at the high cost of slaying some of the crazed villagers, but none of them had a better idea as to how to proceed. Between both the Lions and Eagles, they'd rescued and evacuated a good portion of the ruined town within the hour. Still, something didn't seem right. Dimitri couldn't escape the feeling that they were being watched.

"Your Highness!" Dedue called out from his position just on the other side of the forest. As Dimitri followed his vassal's line of sight, he caught sight of what had alarmed his friend so.

Mages. Garbed in black and observing the carnage intently. The stitching on their robes was familiar, the same as those that had been present in the underground chamber where they had rescued Flayn. Dimitri's lance creaked loudly in his tightening grasp. Those were the Flame Emperor's men. Of course they were behind this madness. 

Ingrid's Pegasus cut through the lining of the trees. "The Death Knight is here, Your Highness," she reported breathlessly.

And more of the pieces fell into place. That was all the confirmation he needed. Where the Death Knight went, those in service of the Flame Emperor seemed to follow. "Where?" Dimitri growled up at her.

"Near the graveyard. Felix, Annette, and Sylvain are advancing to meet his forces."

It was too far. The only thing waiting for them there was a fight. He could not draw answers from a monster like that. "Where is Edelgard?"

Ingrid directed her steed up, further over the wreckage. It would have been hard for her to see through the smoke and flames, but Ingrid's sharp eyes were rivaled only by Ashe's. "The center of town!"

That was all Dimitri needed to know. He ordered Ingrid to lend air support to the fight against the Death Knight and set off towards the square. It sickened him how many bodies littered the floor. The last time they had been in this village, it was a peaceful place. He remembered feeling remarkable awful about leading the group of bandits to a town so undeserving of carnage. How would the survivors ever recover from this? His lance tore through another crazed villager, painting his armor in more blood. Among those they had rescued had been children, younger than even he had been when the Tragedy of Duscur unfolded. How long would the nightmares of this day plague their nights? Their waking thoughts?

To be fair, the same could be said of him and the other students. This level of savagery did not know mercy. None of them would be spared the scars of being here today.

Through the embers, he spotted Edelgard, finishing off an armored knight with a swift blow from her ax. She looked relieved to see him as he approached, but also exhausted. Dimitri stomped down the urge to comfort her, giving her the solidarity of his presence at her side. She wasn't the type that needed kind words and reassurances when there was work to be done. Edelgard motioned ahead of her, up a flight of stairs. There, standing untouched amid the horror around them, was a familiar face. 

Dimitri's eyes widened. "Tomas?"

"So it would seem." Edelgard's expression was severe. Dimitri's mind whirled with the possibilities of why the librarian of Garreg Mach was here. Was this somehow the Church's doing? Had Tomas come simply to observe the event? 

Or perhaps he had been a rat, hiding away in plain sight.

Nodding at Edelgard, they advanced, climbing the stairs until they were face to face with the man himself The older gentleman gave them a chilling smile. "How interesting. A strange twist of fate indeed for the two of you to appear here before me."

Dimitri leveled his lance at the man. "I do not wish to hurt you, Tomas, but know that we will not tolerate accessories to this foul crime going unpunished. Explain yourself."

The man laughed at his warning, shaking his head in amusement. "Foolish child. Tomas was but an alias. Allow me to properly introduce myself." A dark aura surrounded him as his body began to twist and break itself. The noise was horrific, like listening to someone snap their own wrist a hundred times over. Edelgard stepped closer to his side in comfort. It was well appreciated. When the transformation was complete, the person before them looked entirely different. Pale skin and hair, one good eye and bagging skin. "I am Solon. I must thank you, Prince Dimitri for helping me to test out my experiment. It was quite the success. Much more promising than that mess back in Duscur."

Edelgard tensed beside him. Somehow this man had managed to press every button Dimitri possessed simultaneously. He narrowed his eyes menacingly at the mage. "Explain yourself. Now."

"Dimitri, don't let him distract you." Her words went unheeded. Even if she was right, the man before them had answers. Answers Dimitri had been desperately searching for for years. There was no way he would back down now, even if he was being toyed with.

Solon had no hesitation about gloating about his magical prowess. It made Dimitri want to wring his neck with his bare hands. "The spell's reach was limited on our last attempt. If not for that detestable woman's intervention, perhaps it would have run its course. But she of course had her own goals."

So he was right. This same spell craft was present back then. But someone had interrupted it? Or perhaps slain those affected? Damnit he needed more to go on than that. "What woman? Speak!"

"Calm yourself, Dimitri," Edelgard hissed. "We must focus on defeating him. You can ask your questions later." Dimitri shook off the hand she tried to place on his shoulder, stepping forward towards his prey.

Before the elder had a chance to respond, one of the black robed mages jumped a fence and sprinted towards him. "Solon, the Death Knight has been forced to retreat!"

"Ah, I'd love to stay and chat some more...but I'm afraid I've stayed too long."

"We aren't done here!" Dimitri cried in a rage, tightening his grip on his lance. Any harder and he was sure to shatter it. For once, he couldn't bring himself to care. "Answer me, Solon! What vile business does the Flame Emperor have conducting such disgraceful experiments on innocent people?!"

The mage's pale visage was made all the more disturbing by his sickening grin. His chuckles were cruel, like he was enjoying dragging this out. Dimitri's blood boiled. There was nothing he wanted more than to gut that man like the animal he was.

"What an astute question, Your Highness. But, I'm afraid you'll have to ask her for yourself. I could not claim to know the mind of our darling Empress, after all."

The gears in Dimitri's head screeched to a halt. "What?" The Flame Emperor was a woman? The same he claimed was responsible for Duscur perhaps? If that was the case, maybe he could have his revenge and do battle against the Church. Maybe those goals were one and the same at heart. Still, something tugged urgently at his mind.

 _"It may surprise you to know we have the same enemy,"_ she had claimed back in the underground chamber. _"I do not have the luxury of choosing my methods at the current moment, but should you find the courage to fight, my might with back yours."_

Dimitri remembered thinking that the distorted voice had sounded almost wistful. He had dreamt of every possible outcome that would have extended that conversation. That person was responsible for Flayn's kidnapping...for the murder of his family, even! But somehow he couldn't bring himself to rest at ease in his anger. Did they truly have the same enemy? What wasn't he seeing?

 _"The clarity will guide my blade. I know who my enemy is. Do you?"_

Felix's challenge ran wild in his mind. He thought he did. This shouldn't be so complicated. It should have been black and white, yet instead he was drowning in shades of gray.

Perhaps Solon was right. He needed to finish that interrupted conversation from back then. "Where can I find this Flame Emperor?" he glared.

Solon's manic grin only widened. "Why, my boy...she's right beside you!"

The breath left his lungs in a rush. Slowly, painfully so, he turned to face Edelgard. Dimitri kept waiting for her to scoff and dismiss the mage's nonsense. To assure him that it was all just a trick meant to distract him and lead the charge to make that bastard pay. She wasn't the little girl he had danced with all those years ago, but she was still El. His El. The woman he had spilled fears to that even Dedue did not know. She and Claude had been the foundation he stood upon for months now.

Yet, the pale eyes that met his were alight with fear. Her pale face was coated in soot and grime from their battle and the fire. Her hair was coming loose from it's ribbon. But more than any of that, she looked guilty.

"Dimitri..." she hedged, taking a step back. An admission, if he had ever seen on. "Please. Let me explain."

He took a heavy step forward, adjusting his weapon in his grip. "Edelgard...tell me it isn't true. That... that's not right, is it? It can't be."

"Oh, but it is, boy. You know it to be true. The woman who would bathe this corrupted world in Flame to recreate it as she envisioned it. The Flame Emperor, Edelgard von Hresvelg!"

Dimitri's breath came faster and faster, til the corners of his vision began to blur. "Is it true, El? Tell me." Edelgard looked afraid. It was so strange an expression on her. The El in his memory was steadfast and confident. This shadow of a girl, shaking like a leaf in the wind, was a stranger to him. Or, rather, maybe she had always been. "Tell me!"

"It's true," she interjected, tilting her chin up against the emotions playing on her face. "I am the Flame Emperor."

The village of Remire burned in the background. The perfect backdrop for such an admission, if he was thinking of it logically. But, he wasn't. That world around him, once horrifically filled with gray tones and moral ambiguity, faded into a sharp understanding.

And all Dimitri saw was red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I feel like you can safely assume there will always be some form of cliff hanger from now on. I promise they will never be the "I'm going to rage quit this fic" type. Those will go in the middle of chapters so you don't die waiting for the resolution.
> 
> THEY FINALLY DID THE THING THOUGH! Aren't you proud of them?! I am. Trust me, I have been them to get their act together just as much as you guys have.
> 
> With regards to the timing thing I mentioned last chapter, Yuri and By spend so much time recovering that their timeline was a bit earlier than the students'. By the end of the next chapter those timelines will sync up. 
> 
> I'm working on the next one, promise! This fic just has a way of running away from me so...bear with me. Love y'all! Hope it was worth the wait!


	8. The blood of the covenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri's eyes, a clear gorgeous blue like the sky after it rained, were not like the kind ones from her childhood. They were drenched in anger, forged into steel by it. It was a feeling she recognized. After all, her own eyes were the same. Hardened by tragedy, sharpened by resolve, unaffected by the inky black sin they had to coat themselves in to transform the world around them. Edelgard had found solace in their similarities. Dimitri, of all people, could likely understand her situation and sympathize with her intense desire to act. He was not the type of man to sit idly by and let injustice slide. Claude had dreams of a better world too. He had seen discrimination and intolerance the likes of which she and Dimitri would never know. At the time, he had lacked the fire in his chest to make good on his promise of doing whatever it took to reach those goals. If he was still alive and sane when he returned, perhaps Edelgard would choose to trust him too.
> 
> She just thought she would have more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. I've been like scarily productive lately. This social isolation thing is really working out for me. Not that my life is too much different than normal, but whatever.
> 
> Uhh, what to say. I like part of this chapter a lot. You guys brought up amazing points in the comments that I have endeavored to address clearly here. You'll probably find some things to pick at if you look hard enough. Forgive me. Much like the events of chapter 1, some things are a bit too complex or vague to really write well unless I take some liberties.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: more sexual content (less than last time though) and emphasis on the graphic depictions of violence. I tried to keep it classy, but the writing is still on the wall.

There was something so satisfying about waking up after a night of physical exertion. Being an extremely light sleeper, it was hard to enjoy that deep, lost to the world type of rest. Different from Edelgard and Dimitri who jerked awake several times per evening from nightmares. Also different from Linhardt who, surprisingly, had nighttime insomnia and just couldn't get to sleep when the world around him was dark. Any small noise triggered Byleth's fight or flight response and had her reaching for her dagger. The only person Byleth had spoken to about it who could relate to that feeling was Felix. Both had agreed that they slept best after the adrenaline of an intense battle had melted away. So, they often sparred until the wee hours of the morning, content to pass out for a few hours of good sleep rather than lying there unable to sleep for the whole night.

Though, Byleth was sure that if she told Felix about this particular way of tiring herself out, he would smack her and growl about her sounding like Sylvain.

Waking up next to Yuri every morning recently had been an unexpected joy. Sure, he easily woke her up if he tossed or turned too much. Yet, there was something so comforting about being able to roll over and press herself against his warm back, or snuggle into his arms. He was quite the cuddle bug. It was like he was a bottle of physical touch and affection that had been shaken then corked up. Once that bottle was popped open, there was no shortage of small, innocuous touches. And now that they have ventured into the realm of sex, Byleth could only imagine how their physical relationship would change.

Unlike her, Yuri slept deeply and contently through the night. Maybe he didn't always go to sleep at a reasonable hour, but he loved his beauty rest. It was common knowledge among their group that he was not to be woken before he was ready unless there was an emergency. While he was downright bitchy to the others when they shook him awake, Byleth had always taken a more gentle approach. Scratching lightly at his scalp and back to ease him into wakefulness still made him grouchy, but it was more of a cute pout than a snarl. Eyeing the bare curve of his spine and the soft flesh of his butt, uncovered and looking quite attractive in the morning light, Byleth wondered if there was in fact a way of waking him that he would not protest. Kissing down the length of his back, digger her fingers into his thighs or bottom, reaching around to...

**Byleth. Please. I gave you leave for three separate hours last night, kindly grant me a peaceful morning.**

Blinking in surprise, Byleth blushed, as if realizing for the first time that Sothis was privy to her thoughts. Most people did not have to consider that their sex life, including private thoughts, could disturb others. She felt a bit guilty. It wasn't her intention to bother her friend.

**Hush. You need not walk on eggshells. I am capable of distancing myself from your consciousness and will gladly do so. It is just difficult to rest while blocking out your experiences.**

Byleth supposed it was a bit overzealous of her to desire Yuri again so soon. It was strange. Sex had been the talk of her peers and often the mercenaries for most of her life. Most spoke of it as if it was heaven on earth. However, when she first engaged in it herself, she found herself unable to reconcile that assessment with her own experience. Sex, to her, had been awkward, messy and a bit painful. Why would anyone want that every day of their lives? Now, she understood. Yuri made her feel like her body was a single exposed nerve. Every touch made her blood sing and burn. Even now, when her beloved was lost to his dreams, pressing her naked body against his felt lovely. What precisely was the difference?

**Your partner prioritized your pleasure, for one. A quick romp in a barn does not make for a magical, romantic evening.**

Smiling into Yuri's shoulder, Byleth acknowledged that Sothis had a point.

**He also adores you. And you him. Do not discredit that.**

She could have sworn that Sothis had just said a semi-nice thing about Yuri just now. Such a thing had never occurred in her memory so she was certain she must be dreaming somehow.

**Oh, stop that. I am happy for you, Byleth. Truly. He is still a rat, but he has done right by you. In all our time together, I have not seen you so at peace around another soul. So long as that remains true, I will tolerate him.**

She _was_ at peace. The world around her conspired to destroy her and all she loved, she was being hunted with no end in sight, the truth they had discovered threatened to strangle her, but amid all that horror, she had this. The man who had stood by her side throughout it all, who seemed foolish enough to continue to walk in step with her. A family that adored her and would fight for her, even at great personal risk. Byleth truly was blessed. Kissing Yuri's shoulder and slipping out of bed, she renewed her internal vow to not take it for granted.

Yuri did not stir when she left. She hoped that he did not take offense to waking without her, but she had so much energy inside of her that she had to go for a walk or she would be tempted to expend that energy in other ways. It was early enough that the only people awake were the traders, packing up their carts for a long day on the road. Byleth was torn between wanting solitude and wanting to talk to someone, so she headed to the alehouse to see if some tea would set her straight. In truth, despite it technically being morning, she did not expect to run into any of their companions while preparing her drink.

Until she saw Hapi sneaking out of the room that she was positive Balthus was still sleeping (snoring) in, all messy hair and large, obvious hickies.

They stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment before Hapi rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Don't give me that look. Like you and Yuri-bird didn't bump uglies last night."

She had no intention of denying that accusation so she only smiled coyly. "Would you like to go talk? I'll brew some tea."

Out of all of the Ashen Wolves, Hapi was the hardest for Byleth to read. Strange to say considering Yuri Leclerc existed and was a walking grab bag of personalities. That one she could attribute to practice. No matter how much time she spent with Hapi, it always felt like there was this wall between them. In the beginning, she thought Hapi just didn't like her. Balthus assured her that wasn't the case; according to him, Hapi was just a bit weird at showing her appreciation for people. Byleth decided to treat this like she had Bernadetta: make herself available and give Hapi time.

Besides, there were things she wanted to discuss.

They sat out on the porch, enjoying the cool breeze and serene peace. Byleth had such an intense attachment to the village of Trolde now. It would be a shame to leave it, but they needed to figure out their next steps and get moving sooner rather than later. Their future, no...the future of all of Fodlan depended on it. Speaking of which...

"Thank you, Hapi."

The girl paused mid sip, eyes full of confusion. It was cute how flustered she seemed over a simple act of gratitude. Swallowing loudly, Hapi pouted. "What the heck is that for, Chatterbox?"

"You saved my life," she reminded her. "Had it not been for you, I would have died from the poison. I owe you."

Squirming in her seat, Hapi shrugged. "Eh. No big deal. Just did what I had to, ya know?"

So quick to overlook her own deeds. "You know, Lysithea is the most talented mage I've met in my life," she started conversationally, taking a sip of her tea. It was a cinnamon blend, the best she could dig up in a place like this. Still, Hapi seemed to appreciate it. Unlike Yuri and Constance, Hapi was a fan of spicy food and drink. "But in all of our time practicing her warp spell, the furthest she could manage to transport someone was about three kilometers. You managed to send both myself and Yuri over 150 kilometers away, to a safe location where you knew a healer would be. That is incredibly impressive."

Hapi blushed, averting her gaze. "Yeah, well, I doubt your school kids were properly motivated like I was. Desperate times and all that jazz."

She wasn't wrong. They certainly had their fair share of danger during the months that Byleth taught the Golden Deer, but nothing unmanageable. Byleth wouldn't have let them even entertain the idea of a fight they couldn't win. That careful consideration made it so that she very rarely had to use Sothis's Divine Pulse. In that way, she supposed there were some limits her students would never get to press against. At their age, it was a good thing. She couldn't help but wonder whether or not that was still true. They had no idea what had been going on back at the monastery during this trip. What sort of trouble had her little Deer gotten up to when she was gone?

One day, she hoped she would be able to sit down with them and catch up again.

"Were you alright afterwards? I can only imagine a spell like that took a lot out of you."

"Ha!" Hapi scoffed. "That's putting it mildly. I thought my brain was going to turn to liquid and leak out through my ears. It sucked pretty bad." Then, as if considering her audience, Hapi amended. "We managed, though. B's kinda an animal when he's pissed. And Coco blasted a hole in that mountain so big the dumb wolf robot things couldn't cross it. It was pretty awesome."

That did sound awesome. Byleth was slightly sad she wasn't around to see it. Knowing the true extent of Constance's powers would be very useful from a tactical point of view.

**I know not why you fight the label of Professor so hard. You think like one.**

Ignoring the voice in her head, Byleth smiled at Hapi. "Well, I'm glad you all made it through alright. I know Yuri felt guilty for leaving you all behind. You all take care of each other well, though."

"What do you mean 'you all'? You're one of us, Chatterbox. Like it or not." Byleth didn't have words to explain how much she liked it. Even if she did, it was sure to embarrass Hapi so she didn't make an attempt. The redhead put her cup down on the porch and leaned back on her elbows. Her expression was wistful. "It's weird. Us five probably wouldn't have met up if Aelfric didn't gather us all up in the same place. And if we did, I doubt we'd have been friendly. Now, I can't imagine not all being together like this. You guys are my family just as much as my real family is. Way more dysfunctional though." Hapi smiled contently out at the swaying fields, gaze far away for a moment, before remembering herself. Byleth couldn't suppress her fond grin no matter how red Hapi's cheeks got. "Ugh. Fuck. That was like grossly sappy. That's it. I hit my emotions limit for the day. No more."

Batlhus stumbling upon them to inform them that he and Constance were going to attempt to make food spared Hapi from any more undue embarrassment. Joining the others inside alehouse, Byleth supervised the group effort at making breakfast. A good night's rest had done wonderful things for the Wolves. It warmed her heart to see Constance and Balthus singing (poorly) and joking around while cracking eggs. Hapi mostly played peanut gallery to both their cooking adventure and their off-tempo songs. Even she seemed to be having a blast though, restraining dopey smiles far often than she seemed to hold back sighs for once. A pair of arms eventually curled around her waist from behind. The sweet perfume on his skin told her he had taken the time to dress himself proper before she even saw the telltale hint of purple eye shadow and sparkling gloss upon the lips that pressed against hers in a sweet kiss. They let the kiss linger for a moment before realizing that the room was far more quiet than before.

Cocking an eyebrow, Yuri smirked, "Something to say, dearest friends of ours?"

All three of their companions spoke in unity and with feeling as they groaned, " _Finally_!" 

And just like that, it was business as usual. Yuri insisted upon fixing what was left of the meal to cook, causing a faux argument with Constance. Hapi jumped in happily to snark at anyone who was on the winning side of the argument (usually Yuri). Balthus drew Byleth into a dance, continuing to sing happily. She joined in joyfully, having missed the easy cohabitation the five of them slipped into when they were all together like this.

Eventually, the food was done and they sat to eat, but also to talk. It was a long discussion, but one that was long over due. They reviewed everything that happened in Shambhala from start to finish. They reviewed the history of the Church and the relics. Byleth pointed out that Claude believed the Immaculate One was actually one of the saints using a crest stone. They agreed that if that was true, it was very likely Seiros herself. Hapi vented about Odesse and told the tale of a woman named Cornelia from the Kingdom and the awful experiments that were done on her. Constance and Balthus framed her on either side, leaning into her comfortingly while Byleth and Yuri held her hands. 

To give her a break, Byleth explained why she followed Odesse on her own. She explained how the homunculis that the mage referred to had to be her mother, Sitri. How the implication that Crests and the other powers of Sothis and her kind being carried in the blood made sense given what she had seen. Rhea had mentioned to her once that she and Jeralt were as close as they were because Jeralt had almost died to protect her. In return, Rhea gave Jeralt a blood transfusion. Her father did not often use his Crest, Byleth wasn't even positive that he had one. All she knew was that sometimes, when he was deeply invested in a fight, his attacks would become more powerful than they normally were. If what they had learned was true, then her father would have a major Crest of Seiros. She also admitted that he had very likely lived over a hundred years already, aging not a day since the blood transfusion was performed.

Using that logic, if the heart transferred from her mother to her was truly that of Sothis, it would make sense that Byleth would not age either. The Crest of Flames should not be a separate phenomenon from the extended life span. Yuri agreed with her assessment, bringing up the strange case of Flayn. Given all they had learned, her true identity was likely that of Saint Cethleann. Which would make Seteth Saint Cichol, not Flayn's brother, but her ageless father. Since Cethleann was born to a Nabatean, she surely aged much slower than humans. It would explain why she still looked like a young girl even thousands of years after her birth. It would have made sense that Byleth would still look very much like an infant only twenty two years after her birth then. Yet she did not.

"Sothis believes that it is because our personalities are still separate. I have access to only some of her powers, such as the ability to affect time. Conversely, she cannot control my body as if it was her own. Odesse confirmed that theory by looking at my blood. I carry the Crest of Flames, but the trait of immortality doesn't exist in my blood."

"Uh, pause," Balthus called, giving her a strange look. "Maybe I heard ya wrong, did you say Sothis told you something?"

"Yes," Byleth confirmed, unsure where the confusion was coming from. "I told you all that there was a girl whose spirit shared my body with me before. Surely you didn't forget?"

"Well, yeah, you did, but you never said she was _Sothis_ ," Hapi emphasized. "Sothis, as in the Goddess herself."

"Oh. That's because neither of us realized she was the Goddess until then."

Constance squinted at her. "Beg pardon? Were you under the impression that there were multiple all powerful beings by that name?"

"Nah," Yuri drawled, trailing his fingertips over her knuckles. "Jeralt kept By blissfully unaware that the Church of Seiros even existed. You probably just didn't ever hear the Goddess called her name before, huh?"

Sheepishly, Byleth nodded. "Just one of the many things I'll be talking to him about at some point. Contextualizing all of this would have been far easier had I known."

They sat on that one for awhile, finishing up their breakfast. It was Balthus that broke the silence as Byleth and Constance stood to brew more tea. "I can't believe the Goddess herself calls Yuri a rat."

And thus, the strange spell of awkward air was broken. They spent the rest of the day together, catching up on what happened during their time apart. When it was time for dinner, they joined the brewer and his family, enjoying the ability to just exist for a time before they had to get back to work. They agreed to plan their next moves tomorrow and set off the same day if possible. It was already the middle of the Red Wolf moon. Before long, winter would be upon them and their nomadic lifestyle would get more difficult. Splitting off from each other for the night, Yuri and Byleth returned to Eva's shop. Yuri pounced onto the bed immediately with a happy sigh. Byleth was still detailing how awkward it was getting used to being a teacher and having another person in her head at the same time.

"Yeah, I'm still processing that one, to be honest. The smack talking toddler in your mind being the Creator herself is definitely the weirdest thing that's happened so far." Despite his talk of being overwhelmed by that knowledge, Yuri looked at ease, lounging on their bed like an over-fed house cat.

Humming, Byleth lowered herself comfortably into the circle of Yuri's arms. Once her head was pillowed against his shoulder, she ran one of her hands teasingly along his chest. "Weirder than weapons made out of people?"

"By far," Yuri agreed, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Also weirder than the Archbishop being a millennium old lizard."

"Child's play compared to being called vermin by an eternal being, surely."

"Truly. I doubt there shall ever be anything stranger than a religion based around worship of a sharp tongued school girl, who spends her days playing peanut gallery in the mind of a mercenary."

Byleth hid her smile in the soft fabric of Yuri's undershirt. "Not even that time when Balthus added half a jar of honey and pepper to a pickled beet stew?"

Yuri's stomach flexed beneath her hand. The sound of disgust he made was guttural and well felt. "You may have me there."

Byleth could feel Sothis's thinly veiled ire at being teased. **Laugh as you may. Yet forget not that I have the power to burden you with unappealing thoughts the next time you and your mutt decide to copulate.**

She was rather certain that Sothis's presence in her mind during sex would bother the Nabatean far more than it would her. Yuri was exceptionally good at keeping her attention. Especially when he...

**No. No thank you. Your point has been acknowledged.**

Byleth smirked in smug victory long enough for Yuri to notice. Running a thumb along the curve of her lips, Yuri chuckled warmly. "Has something to say about that, does she?" Raising a hand dramatically towards the ceiling, Yuri pitched his voice into a booming plea. The same type the pastors always used during the Church services before choir practice. "Oh Goddess immortal, feral gremlin ethereal, bestow upon us your passive aggressive wisdom and we shall shower thee in meager offerings. What doth thy Holiness desire?"

Sothis hissed back in return. **To flay your soul in the fires of inferno would bring me great joy, sewer rat.**

Holding back her laughter as best she could, Byleth pronounced, "She wants a honey bun."

She felt more than heard Yuri snort in response. The shrill voice in her head screeched, **No!**

Succumbing to her giggles, Byleth corrected, "Two honey buns."

She and Yuri dissolved into loud laughter, clutching each other tightly. Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes from her breathless, gasping joy. **You are a traitor, Byleth Eisner.** That only made her laugh harder though. When Yuri had calmed enough to speak, he slid both hands down to cup Byleth's bottom firmly in his grasp. She let out a startled yelp, but grinned encouragingly up at her partner.

"What a coincidence. There are two perfectly sweet buns right here," Yuri chortled. Byleth pressed her thigh up into Yuri's groin, drawing a shiver from the man. His laugh grew deeper, dripping with the promise of pleasure in her near future. "Though, call me a heretic if you'd like, but I think I'd much rather eat them myself."

Catching her lips between her teeth, Byleth urged, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

There was still laughter on their breath as Yuri flipped her over and pressed her into the mattress. It made their ecstasy taste twice as sweet.

-x-x-x-

Desperation was no stranger to Edelgard.

There was a time, once, when she did not wear violence and secrecy on her head like a crown. Back before her father had been betrayed by the other wretched nobles of the Empire. When she still had her mother there to sing her and her siblings to sleep at night. At a time where her siblings were still among the living. Even the days she spent in Fhirdiad had been peaceful. So much so that the flames that burned her to ash and created the woman she was now had tarnished their memory. All she had left from that time was a vision of kind blue eyes and a dagger. They had kept her stable through the worst of it. As had Hubert. Now, it was the burning embers of revolution and revenge that kept her going. For years she had sworn to herself that nothing would stand in the way of her path. She would tolerate no obstacles. No amount of evil was too much so long as the world was liberated from the vile deeds of the Nabateans and Agarthians by the end. 

Though, it did not escape her thoughts that the boy from her memory may not have shared that opinion. She mourned the version of herself that he knew just as much as she mourned her siblings.

It was strange how, though she could not remember his face nor his name, she remembered those eyes.

It was strange how she could not escape the feeling that they were staring at her now.

Dimitri's eyes, a clear gorgeous blue like the sky after it rained, were not like the kind ones from her childhood. They were drenched in anger, forged into steel by it. It was a feeling she recognized. After all, her own eyes were the same. Hardened by tragedy, sharpened by resolve, unaffected by the inky black sin they had to coat themselves in to transform the world around them. Edelgard had found solace in their similarities. Dimitri, of all people, could likely understand her situation and sympathize with her intense desire to act. He was not the type of man to sit idly by and let injustice slide. Claude had dreams of a better world too. He had seen discrimination and intolerance the likes of which she and Dimitri would never know. At the time, he had lacked the fire in his chest to make good on his promise of doing whatever it took to reach those goals. If he was still alive and sane when he returned, perhaps Edelgard would choose to trust him too.

She just thought she would have more time.

Backing up a step, then another, Edelgard was faced with the grotesque and sobering truth that time was never on her side. Protecting herself before had screwed her irrevocably now. If she had just taken the plunge when she had the chance to discuss it rationally, it wouldn't have ended up this way. Solon, the rat, had taken the liberty of outing her secret for himself. Twisting it into the idea of the Tragedy of Duscur so that his intended audience would lose his grasp on rational thought. 

Those murderous blue eyes were proof enough that he had succeeded.

"Dimitri," she pleaded. "Calm yourself. This is what he wants."

The man before her did not cease his approach. Edelgard was frighteningly aware of how powerful Dimitri was, even when he was at peace. There were cracks up the base of his silver lance. A human's skull would be like wet clay compared to that. This confrontation would not end in her favor unless she could get through to him. Or kill him, but she did not even want to consider that option. Not yet.

"Let me explain. Please. If we can just discuss this then-"

"I've heard enough, traitor," he growled, lunging at her. 

Her only option was to leap away, tucking her head into her arms as she tumbled down the stone stairs back into the square. The fall battered her shoulders, knees and back, but the pain was not so substantial that she could not stand and draw her ax. Something wet ran down her brow, dripping down her cheek. The smell of iron had always made her stomach turn. Steeling herself, she called again, "I haven't betrayed you, Dimitri! I had nothing to do with Duscur. I was a child, same as you!"

"Guilt of association then," Dimitri decided, descending towards her with malice behind every heavy step. "This really shouldn't surprise me. It's obvious isn't it? You left our household mere months before the attack. Your uncle disappeared from the public view, pulling all the donations he so regularly granted the Church of Seiros that very day. And then my step-mother..." The blond laughed, cruelty dripping from his crocked grin. "Why wouldn't you have been involved? I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

Edelgard's mind struggled to sift through his claim amide her retreat. She had been under the care of King Lambert? Had that been true? She certainly could believe that her uncle was a part of that disgusting business. The man was barely human in her eyes. "My Uncle's actions are not mine," she claimed, frustrated.

"No," he agreed, twirling the lance in his hold. "You're right. I should judge you based on your actions, El. Like kidnapping Flayn and the massacre of Remire!"

Her heart clenched at his use of that nickname. No one had called her that since her mother. Yet, he had now used it twice. "You think I did this? Dimitri I had no idea that Solon would-"

"You've already admitted to it!" Dimitri brought his lance down on her in a brutal swing. Her ax creaked worryingly as she caught the blade on the arc of her own. The pressure was insane, her arms ached from just the strain of holding off one hit. Any more of this and she might be in trouble. "The Flame Emperor. She who controls the Death Knight and these foul mages. The same responsible for both these unspeakable atrocities and who knows how many more. Who cares that your hand did not lower the headman's ax upon these people?! It was your command that ordered it so!"

Deflecting his attack, Edelgard swung her ax down on the fragile staff of the lance. To her relief, it gave under the force of it's wielder's hold. With a furious cry, Dimitri caught the blade end and thrust it at her, much like a knife. A sloppy stab, but it brushed her shoulder all the same. Edelgard cried out in pain, stumbling back with a hand pressed to the wound. 

"Lady Edelgard!!"

Edelgard turned to see Hubert and Linhardt watching their confrontation with a mix of shock and concern. Well, more so rage on Hubert's part. Gritting her teeth, Edelgard called, "Stand down, Hubert!"

"Nonsense!" he hissed, dark magic curling around his hands. "I will not allow-"

"That is an _order_!" Edelgard's eyes never left Dimitri's. She could not risk him losing himself to a frenzy right now. This had to be a conflict between just the two of them or he would react as any cornered beast would: without abandon or sense. Before her retainer could argue further, he gave a strangled cry and then was silent. Who had hurt him? One of the Lions? Dedue? Fear flashed through her, but when she glanced over briefly to where Hubert had stood, all she saw was Linhardt standing over her servant's prone form. 

"Take a nap, won't you Hubert? Goddess knows you need one." the boy quipped dryly, white magic still hanging in the air around his outstretched hand. The expression on his face when he met her eyes was cold. Close to his normal look of disinterest, but sharper. The healer cast physic on her, mending her shoulder, but his eyes remained icy. "Do go on, Edelgard. I believe you were trying to defend your innocence. Despite being the Flame Emperor."

A warning rang out in her mind at his tone. Anyone who didn't know Linhardt well would say he was lazy, unfocused, but brilliant. Over time she had learned that he hated killing and fighting of any sort. He placed no value in pride, glory or even wealth. All wars were thus pointless in his mind. The only thing keeping him active on the battlefield was the chance to preserve the life of his friends. That had seemed like an absolute for the past few months.

She also knew that he had personally tended to Flayn's injuries after they recovered her. That while she had mostly stayed hidden away in her room since then, Linhardt was the only person other than Seteth to visit her on a regular basis. Until this point, Linhardt had never known a reason to justify killing someone else.

Edelgard shivered, knowing if her words were not convincing enough, she may just be the first person to give him one.

To her relief, Dimitri's anger had simmered down a bit, enough that he did not immediately rush forward to kill her at least. Taking a deep breath, Edelgard began, "When I returned from Faerghus, my uncle and the other major noble houses of the Empire gathered my siblings and I together and performed awful experiments on us. The goal was to transfer a particular Crest onto us." Linhardt's brow furrowed, attention thoroughly captured. Dimitri's stony stare did not waver, but his stance lost a degree of its tension. "Uncle worked together with a group of mages, of which Solon was a part, to see that goal to fruition. The nobles were promised an heir with the power to conquer Fodlan once more. They thought it would grant them more power and influence, like in the old days before the liberation of Faerghus and the Alliance. The mages, who Hubert and I refer to as Those That Slither in the Dark, made the nobles believe that should their bloodlines run dry, they could simply force any desired Crest onto their offspring. Most of my siblings went mad, others died of exhaustion. I was the only survivor."

"Their experiment...did it work?" Linhardt wondered.

Edelgard nodded. "It did. I, much like Professor Byleth, bear the Crest of Flames."

The young Crest Scholar's eyes widened. "Along with the minor Crest of Seiros?"

"Yes. The strain of having two Crests has wreaked havoc on my body. The cost of such power is years shaved off one's life span. And...other, physical challenges as well."

"You hair," Dimitri commented, face remarkably free from that ever present crazed scowl again. "It was brunette before. When you were in Faerghus."

That again. He had said something similar in Abyss before. As if he had seen her. Looking at him now, seeing that all consuming anger supplemented by a sorrow for her, it dawned on her that he had. Those kind blue eyes. A noble boy who had filled her days with laughter. No wonder he had called her El...that boy had been Dimitri. All this time, she had thought him a stranger. A kindred spirit she could ideally shape into an ally. But to him, she was an old friend. 

"Yes," she confirmed wearily. 

Though he did not address the comment at her, Edelgard did not miss Linhardt breathing out, "Then Lysithea..." His face was full of conflict. Concern, anger, sorrow. Edelgard knew how he felt. She spotted the familiar marks of time under the needle on the young girl when they first met. Edelgard never confronted her about it, thinking all she could do for the poor thing was prevent anyone else from suffering the same fate.

"From that moment, I decided that someone needed to destroy this flawed system, where the idea of nobility and Crests dominate our society and people die to preserve such an antiquated tradition. The Church expressed power over all three nations by ensuring that obedient noble houses keep their boons and eradicating those that step out of line. My life will not be long enough to wait for someone else to act, so I stepped forward to chase that dream. My own strength was woefully insufficient compared to that of the Church, who could draw soldiers from Faerghus and the Alliance to defend itself if need be. So, I became the Flame Emperor and elicited the assistance of Those That Slither."

Edelgard remembered the week she spent mulling over that decision. Despite her own trauma, her heart was not void of compassion. She despised her Uncle and those vile mages just as much as her father did. Destroying them would not change the society they lived in, though. Hubert had held her tightly, stroking her hair and promising that if they could bide their time and bite their tongues long enough to meet their larger scale goals, nothing would stop them from ripping out the rest of the weeds. She hated it. But, it was the only way she could strive towards that all too necessary victory.

"How foolish," Linhardt scolded with feeling. "Only thinking of the ends, not at all caring that the means would tear apart the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands of people? You disappoint me, Edelgard."

"I _do_ care," she fired back. "I care about people like Miklan Gautier and my dead siblings, sacrificed by sneering nobles only interested in cultivating their own selfish ambitions! There are no _good_ options here, Linhardt! If you have a better alternative, I would love to hear it."

The green haired mage's glare was piercing, but he said nothing.

"You act as though no one else would have heard your plea," Dimitri critiqued with a gruff tone. "I can't fathom how the group that tortured you and slaughtered your kin was a more appealing option than believing in the good of other people."

Averting her eyes in shame and anger, Edelgard shook her head. "Do you think I am so rash that I did not consider that? The nobles of Faerghus, more than any other country, rely on the very system I want to rid them of. The Alliance has not agreed on anything except their independence from Faerghus. Most of them know only a loyalty to their wallets and the Church. How would I, a mere child, have convinced them to do otherwise? If I were possible, I would not be walking this path in the first place. I assure you of that much."

The silence between them carried for a moment. Without a word, Linhardt turned and began to walk back the way he had come. Edelgard sounded more like a lost girl than a leader when she called, "Where are you going?" It wasn't inaccurate.

He at least gave her the decency of a response, back still turned towards her. "Back to the monastery. I'll gather others and the refugees with me when I go. Hubert should wake up within the hour. I leave him to you."

Expression softening, Edelgard nodded. "Thank you Linhardt. I appreciate it."

Linhardt scoffed. "I'm not doing this for you." Then he was gone.

Out of all of the people she expected to butt heads with in this way, Linhardt had not made the top of the list. Though, she supposed that was short sighted of her. Her path was one soaked in the blood of those who did not necessarily deserve to die. It was all for a better future, but she could not deny that it was not the way of least resistance. Linhardt would likely never accept her or her ideologies. It was refreshing, in a strange way. She had no choice but to respect him for it. Perhaps she would not be the reason he took a life willingly for the first time, but she was part of the reason he would take a stand for the first time. That title felt a lot better than the alternative. 

Beside her, Dimitri remained eerily silent. It was hard to tell if he was still livid with her, silently seething, or if her words had reached him. Up the staircase, Edelgard was not surprised to see that Solon had not stuck around. He likely hoped that the two would kill each other. The coward. Unable to tame the wasp's nest in her chest, Edelgard thought aloud, "I know I'm not innocent in this. Perhaps I did not contribute to _this_ tragedy, but I knew of their plans for Flayn. I could have prevented that, had I tried. Instead, I compromised and allowed it, provided she be left alive. Please understand that my heart is not so cold that I do not feel remorse for these misfortunes. I simply have played my hand the way I thought was best."

"You know what bothers me most, El?"

Looking at him again, Edelgard let the comfort of that nickname give her hope. There were tons of things she could have guessed. Playing games with this sort of conversation felt wrong, though. "What is it?"

When Dimitri met her eyes again, some of the kindness was back in those blue eyes again. Looking at her like this, Edelgard felt silly for not recognizing him sooner. Drenched in the horrors of his own trauma or no, underneath it all, he was still that boy she taught how to dance. Perhaps, if that was true, then maybe under all her layers of cruelty and desperation, she was still that same girl. Wouldn't that be nice?

"You keep saying 'I' when you speak. I compromised. I played my hand. I could have prevented this." Shaking his head, Dimitri stared down at the ruined lance in his hands. "No one exists in a realm all of their own. Except perhaps the Goddess. You did not walk into this mess by yourself. You will not fix it by yourself either. So stop being stupid and acting like you have to do everything yourself."

Edelgard balked, taken aback. This was such a mild and forgiving complaint given that he was just mad enough to stab her. Though, she supposed she wasn't exactly making this easy for him either. "What else am I to do then? I am vividly aware that even with the Empire's might backing me, it will be a struggle to survive the battle, let alone succeed in changing people's minds. "

Dimitri scowled at her. "Try listening for once, perhaps?" Before she could snap at him for being rude, he pushed on. "If the Empire is not enough to secure victory over the Church and Those That Slither in the Dark, then what of the combined might of the Empire and the Kingdom?"

Edelgard's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

"I told you before, did I not? Were I to find that the Church poses a direct threat to my people, I would oppose it. Knowing the madness surrounding Crests and nobility has gone that far in the Empire, I must consider how it will impact Faerghus in the future. If you are correct and this all stems from Rhea's influence, then she and the Church of Seiros are enemies of the people of my kingdom. And I will not stand for it." Eyeing her careful, Dimitri amended, "I will not side with these vile bastards, though. Nor any of the co-conspirators. My aim will be to erase all threats to my people. _All_ of them." His glare was harsh and cut into her like a knife. "Both you and Claude are frustrating bone heads that can imagine a sparkling future years in the distance but can't see two feet in front of you, but you are both so precious to me. I will not forget your transgressions thus far, El. I can't. But help me with my revenge against those that stole my family from me, and I will march with you down a better path."

There was no way. After all she had done, despite the layers of unspoken details still left between them, he was choosing to put that aside and stand with her anyway. Edelgard did not even realize there were tears running down her face until the salt burned at a cut on her cheek. 

Voice trembling just as badly as her bottom lip, Edelgard vowed, "I will bring you my uncle's head on a pike and help you hunt down every single one of those monsters. It would still not be enough to repay you for this, Dima."

"You can repay me with the truth then. All of it. Not just for me, but for all of our allies. If we are to do this, we must do it right, El. Otherwise, are we really any better than Rhea?"

Wiping the tears from her face, she smiled. "No, I suppose not." 

They spoke until Hubert awoke and Dedue returned from helping the others deal with the aftermath of the blood massacre of Remire. It was difficult, sharing the secrets she had kept so tightly clutched to her chest aloud with not just Dimitri and Hubert, but Dedue as well. She could tell that neither he or Hubert were particularly thrilled with her. That was fine. Hubert would come around if this whole thing did not blow up in their faces. Dimitri's opinion and support would always matter more to Dedue than his own, anyway. While the other students had returned to the monastery, she and Dimitri set off for Enbarr and Fhirdiad respectively. Claiming their crowns this young and during a time of conflict would be difficult as well as controversial. Edelgard believed they could accomplish it though. It was best that they try now, when Rhea's watchful eyes were focused elsewhere. They agreed to meet back up at the monastery at the beginning of the Ethereal Moon. There, they would assess the state of the Church and inform Claude of their plans. If all went as she expected, they'd be marching on Garreg Mach by the end of the year.

There was almost no chance that this would go as planned. Still, the knowledge that she wasn't alone gave her hope that it would work out in the end. That would have to be enough.

-x-x-x-

Deciding upon their next move was a bit of a debate. Balthus wondered aloud if it was right to leave a place like Shambhala up and functioning as they had. The Agarthian people were wicked bastards, using defenseless people as lab rats. None of them could deny that seeing them removed from the equation would be a relief. Yet, there were also other fish to fry. The Church had been putting pressure on villages like Trolde in an effort to find them. Hapi argued that they might as well nip Rhea's search in the bud and take the fight to her before she could do any real damage.

Yuri's counter point was that they were no where near well armed enough to take on either of those projects at present. They'd need troops...a lot more troops, to hope to succeed on ventures such as those. He had a couple ideas of where they could start acquiring said troops, but it would take some time. Regardless of their decision, Yuri drafted letters to several big names in the Underground networks of Faerghus and Adrestia. Balthus agreed to write to some folks he knew (and didn't owe money to) in the Alliance. It would take weeks to hear back though.

It was Byleth who suggested they set out for Enbarr. As far as they knew, the main force of Agarthians experimenting on people was small and all led by Lord Volkhard Arundel. Getting to a man like him would be tricky, but Yuri had more than a couple of people in Enbarr that owed him a favor or two. He was confident he could make it happen. Thus, the plan was to head to Enbarr, scope out the situation with their black robed enemies, deal with them in any capacity that was reasonable, and wait for word back from their contacts. Leaving Trolde was bittersweet, but it did feel nice to be back on the road again. Yuri was not the type to sit still. He enjoyed having a plan A-Z ready to go. Plus, he had enjoyed their time spent together on the way out here from the monastery. It wasn't luxurious, but it had grown on him. While they'd only been on break from their travels for two week and a half weeks, roughing it with the Wolves felt like the good old days again.

The main difference, one that Yuri was very much pleased by, was that Byleth now spent her evenings curled up beside him in his tent. Even before their first visit to Trolde, it had been something Yuri hoped would one day come to pass. Byleth was gorgeous, yes. No one would find a valid argument against that. Even back when they first met in Abyss, she showed that she was capable and trustworthy. Anyone would be lucky to have her as their ally, let alone partner. But it was their chemistry and compatibility that made Yuri want her not just as a passing fancy, but a fixture in his life. 

It went against a lot of his codes. Everything was temporary. Life, happiness, money, status...all could be ripped away at a moment's notice. Ever since he had survived his bout with the plague, death was an ever present worry in the back of Yuri's mind. His line of work brought him inches from death quite frequently. It was partially why he appreciated life so much. His gang was an attempt at combating the fleeting nature of life. He wanted to give his people a group they could call home, even if he couldn't give them a single location that was home. He loved his people, the Ashen Wolves included. But, while he would bleed and struggle to protect them and give them a good life, he would not willingly tie himself to any single one of them. To be the leader they needed, he couldn't afford to do so.

Byleth was an exception. She gave him the confidence to dream up crazy goals like changing this wicked nobility system and making sure things like poverty did not mean the death of so many good people. And now that he had a taste of what it was like to be with her physically, emotionally and mentally, he wasn't sure he could ever give it up. Life just wouldn't taste as sweet anymore. Sure, he was whole without her...but he felt a hell of a lot better with her.

He wanted her to know that. Had tried to make every moment they spent together instill in her this idea that he adored her company and wanted more of it. Whether that be relying on his insight when discussing their path to Enbarr, or being here in their tent, exploring each other quietly so as not to disturb the others. It was an interesting challenge at times. Yuri was a vocal man in bed, loved teasing out gasps and cries from his partners, especially Byleth who was naturally hushed. Without the indication of sound to key him into what he was doing right, Yuri had to learn to read other signals on his lover's body.

Such as how tense her thighs were around his hips. As she climbed closer and closer to her peak, those beautiful legs would draw him nearer, as if she couldn't accept being parted from him. Or the way the slow, attentive slide of her lips and tongue against his would trail off, too lost in her ecstasy to remember to kiss him. Not that he minded. Yuri had brought her to completion twice now, gently rocking within her, enjoy the feel of her warm and tight around his member, while his fingers pinched and rubbed at her clit. He loved the way she rippled and squeezed him as she came, so much so that it didn't bother him how perfectly silent she could be. It was almost impressive, really. And helpful. He may have whispered into her ear all the places he wanted to have her, draw orgasm after orgasm from her in public so noiselessly that no one but them would ever know. That time, he couldn't resist tumbling over the edge of pleasure with her. It really was a nice visual.

Sex had a way of mellowing him out. In his youth, he had even needed it to get a good night's sleep. Tonight though, the thoughts running through his head kept him from drifting off into slumber.

"Hey, By?" he muttered into her hair, hand still rubbing her back idly.

"Hmm?"

"You plan to confront Rhea at some point, don't you?"

Byleth tensed against him, but didn't deny it. "Yeah. Probably after we do what we can in Enbarr."

Yuri wouldn't say the thought of potentially fighting Lady Seiros herself didn't frighten him, but it was also necessary at this point. "Do you mind if we take a detour before going to the monastery?"

Byleth shifted a bit so she could meet his eyes. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"

Kissing her nose, Yuri smiled at her softly. "I was thinking we could visit my mom. I haven't been able to keep up with her well since his whole thing started. And besides, I really want the two of you to meet."

Byleth's lilac eyes roamed his own, her expression melting into something soft and adoring. "Of course we can," she agreed, hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

"Don't think that's too fast? You meeting my family already?"

Chuckling, Byleth shook her head. "No. She means so much to you. I'd love to meet her." With a playful simper on her mouth, she teased, "You're more than free to meet my family too. Though, you're probably more likely to be threatened with maiming than I am."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. My mama raised a thug and she knows it. Where do you think I learned how to pop a kneecap?"

"Strange. My father taught me how to do that too."

"Match made in heaven, aren't we?" Yuri tilted her chin up to kiss her, slow and deeply. The heat gathering between them wasn't quite enough to start another round. It definitely had to potential to, though. That giddy feeling in his chest made him feel soft, vulnerable. "Seriously though, don't let me move this faster than you want it to go. I know words aren't your strong suit but I'd like for us to stay on the same page."

Byleth hummed thoughtfully. "You think that we aren't?"

"I think that compared to your brilliance, I'm but a flightless sparrow. I don't want to trap you here on the ground with me."

"A sparrow?"

Yuri nodded, thinking of his mother's old analogies. "Prettier than a pigeon. Not quite a dove. I even fooled my own mother into thinking I would take flight one day."

Seeing the frown on Byleth's face made Yuri mad at himself. Of course he had to go and ruin that intimate, wonderful moment between them with his petty concerns. It felt like he had been slapped when Byleth sat up and left the circle of his arms. She didn't stray far though. He could barely see her in the limited light of their tent, but she looked lovely all the same.

"Have you ever heard of the Sreng legend of the Jian?" Yuri shook his head. "A Jian is a bird born with only one wing. It can't fly on its own. So a pair of Jian decide to spend their lives together, linking their bodies together so they can achieve flight. I'm not sure such a bird actually exists. The story is mostly used to describe symbiotic relationships. I've always felt it was... extremely romantic. Finding a person that you're compatible with so that you both may do things you couldn't on your own."

A woman that would flirt with him using bird metaphors. Goddess preserve him, how on earth did he find someone like that. Luck, fate or coincidence, Yuri was thankful for her. "That's cute. I didn't take you as the type to think about such poetic things."

Byleth huffed, reaching down to hold one of his hands in her own. "Now who's slow on the uptake?"

Yuri's heart rate picked up a bit. There really was no mistaking her implication but how far she was willing to take it was still something he did not want to assume. "Still you. Maybe...I just want to hear you say it."

Byleth's fingers tightened around his own. Her voice came out clear and strong. "Who cares if you can't fly alone? I'll help you."

His breath hitched on his next inhale. That right there was everything he had never dreamed he would find. That was why he had clung to her and not let go, even though her path took him far away from his own projected trajectory. Yuri didn't try to mask the way his voice shook. "Careful, Byleth. Promising to stay by my side and help me achieve my goals forever? That sounds dangerously like a marriage proposal." 

"Going too fast for you?"

Throwing his own words back at him, eh? So like her. "Not at all." Sitting up, Yuri tugged their joined hands towards him, pulling her into his arms. As always, she went willingly and melted against him. Yuri nuzzled his face affectionately against her shoulder, taking a deep steadying breath. "I can't do this the right way, though trust me I want to. I can't offer you my virginity on our wedding bed. Hell, I can't even offer you a wedding bed we aren't renting for the evening. Not to mention a ring...yet. For now, all I've got is this banged up heart, a pretty face, and a sword to fight beside you with."

"The rest of your body is pretty spectacular too," Byleth teased, sounding a bit choked up herself.

"Well, yeah. That goes without saying." They both laughed breathlessly, tightening their grip on one another. Yuri kissed her shoulder, her neck, any skin he could find. "You know...ever since I got sick as a kid, I've been working on creating a legacy. Something that will carry on after I'm gone. I'm just a person like anyone else. I'll die, just like anyone else. But, I want to leave a mark on this world. I want to ease the suffering of as many unfortunate souls as I can. It's what my gang is all about. I've made arrangements so that when I go, they'll be able to keep that work up. Keep changing things in Fodlan for the better."

Byleth sighed, pulling away just enough to give him a deadpanned stare. "You're a bit focused on the 'til death do we part' line, Yuri."

"Just let me finish," he whined, pouting. When Byleth gave him a nod, he continued. "Since meeting you, I've come to want something else. I want a life with you. No matter what that ends up looking like. I like who I am more when I'm by your side. I want to do all the thing we could never do on our own together. With all that in mind...Byleth Eisner, will you-"

"Yes."

Laughing, Yuri sputtered, "I haven't even asked you yet!"

Byleth was positively beaming. Yuri couldn't resist cupping her cheeks in his hands, running his thumbs over the dimples in her smile. "Then ask."

"I was _trying_ to be romantic." No matter how petulant he sounded, Yuri knew the grin on his face ruined the pissy tone. That was fine. It was his intense joy he wanted her to remember right now anyway.

"You don't need to charm me, Yuri. I'm already yours." Byleth leaned forward to kiss him, stealing the breath from his lungs. "Yes, I'll marry you. Yes, I'll help you achieve that dream of yours. So long as you also help me with mine." Yuri kissed her this time, deeply. Though he would deny it if she brought it up, he knew his hands were shaking. Pulling away to take a breath, Byleth giggled, "I would like a ring at some point though. And a cake."

"Mm. I do think that can be arranged." Yuri let Byleth push him onto his back, moaning into their kiss. She scooted forward until it was his legs through around her hips. As they kissed, Byleth rolled her hips against him, sending a jolt through his core. If not for her lack of _equipment_ , Yuri would have sworn she was going to enter him. Actually...that was something they may have to explore sometime. Before they got too carried away, Yuri muttered, "Wait."

His beloved froze immediately, shooting him a concerned glance. "Did I cross a boundary?"

"Oh, I...no." Byleth was well aware of his past...unpleasant sexual experiences by now. Many of them with men. In positions not unlike the one they were in now. For her to be that sensitive to his needs was terribly charming. "That's...adorable of you to consider though. I appreciate it. It's not that. I just wanted to tell you something."

"Hmm?"

"Luka." Byleth's head tilted in confusion. Yuri ran a hand through her messy hair, smiling nervously. "It's my real name. The one my mother gave me. I've kept it a secret since...a long time ago. No one knows it other than my mother, myself...and now you."

She looked shocked but also touched. "Would you prefer that I keep it secret too?"

"Yeah. Honestly, in many ways I am still Yuri Leclerc. I still fulfill the role he made for himself. As long as that's true, it might be best to stick to that in public." Yuri ran an appreciative hand up her thigh, pulling her closer to him suggestively. "But, when we're alone..."

"Luka." 

It sounded sweet coming from her lips. Years had gone by since he had heard anyone call him that aloud. He couldn't be blamed for getting a bit riled up over it. "Yes."

"I love you, Luka."

"I love you too. So damn much." Yuri pulled her body to completely cover his, biting at her lip. His hands were already wandering down her stomach, wanting to repay her for the security he felt in his chest right now. Who cared that they had more marching to do in less than six hours? He fucking adored this woman and he would gladly lose sleep to convince her further of his devotion and spend more time in her intimate company.

They were not quite as quiet that time around.

The next day was exhausting, but Yuri couldn't complain. They were making excellent time. The next township they would come to was another three or four hours down the road. It was more impressive that they even had a chance of reaching it in only a day. The territory they were in belonged to House Bergliez and while it may have been safe to camp out in the fields somewhere, Yuri would rather not risk being reported on.

"It's gonna rain soon," Hapi moped, sniffing at the air.

"Thank the divine graces that be," Constance lamented, the sun stripping her of all her energy. "I will be most thankful for the cloud cover."

Balthus frowned at the mention of the storm. "Think we should find a nice place to settle down and wait it out?"

"Nah," Yuri shrugged. "Our path will take us through Gronder Field. Going around might take some time, but if we cut straight through, we can reach our next stop by nightfall. I say we push through."

Hapi raised an eyebrow. "And get soaked in the process?"

"Better than running into an Imperial squadron, wouldn't you say Hapi?"

None could argue with that. Feeling the hesitation still apparent in the party, Yuri directed his gaze at Byleth, silently offering her the final say. "Let's keep going. Gronder is a large source of food in the Empire, but also a popular training spot for the army. I wouldn't want to test our luck explaining ourselves to them."

So they marched on. Yuri could admit that he had a weird feeling in his gut about this whole thing. To him, it was more of a reason to get through this place as quickly as possible. From his time in the Blue Lions house, he remembered the terrain being variable when they fought in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. That mock battle should have already occurred by now, so the likelihood of running into any troops there should have been minimal.

Or...at least he hoped.

-x-x-x-

The sky always smelled so different just before a storm. A bit like wet grass in the early morning mixed with something more intense. Lightning had no smell, and if it did it would smell burnt, but Claude liked to think a storm that could generate lightning gave the air this sort of smell.

Behind him, the bustling of the Knights and his own troops kept his thoughts from flying too far up into the clouds. Claude almost wished they would get lost up there. Was this how Linhardt felt all the time? So hopelessly overwhelmed by the living hell here on the ground that he sought a haven far above, where no one might reach him? Perhaps he'd ask one day. If anything, Claude could certainly relate to his intense aversion to doing anything. That man had truly mastered the art of being lazy. Even Hilda had expressed admiration for his ability to slack off once.

Hilda.

A spark of genuine sadness flared in his chest at the thought of her. Strange, considering that he had spent the last few weeks feeling nothing but anger. If anyone deserved to be the subject of his emotions, it was her. 

_Claude's eyes flitted back and forth between Rhea's empty smile and Catherine's hand, poised to draw Thunderbrand at a moment's notice. He wracked his brain for options. The audience chamber was large, maneuverable, but had few places to absorb the swift strikes of the Hero's Relic. They'd been without their weapons for days now, ever since they were first brought in for their "audience". Claude could likely make due with the knife in his boot but that wouldn't do anything if he couldn't get close. His body was shaky still from days of forced fasting. The odds of that were..._

_"Claude."_

_He turned to face Hilda slowly, unsure what to do with the calm look on her face. Like the sea before a storm. So unlike her that it almost made him sick. Don't pick now to be a good school girl, he wanted to plead with her. Fight with me. Maybe, if we do it together we would win._

_They wouldn't. Claude didn't need and strategic background to know that. For even if they managed to leave the room alive, there would nowhere they could run. No safe place to hide._

_"I'll stay with Lady Rhea, Claude. You'll find the Professor and bring her back here, right?"_

_Rhea's expectant stare drilled into his head. Damnit. He hadn't planned for this. He hadn't been warned about this! There was no plan B. Nor C, or D, or Z that could weasel him loose from the viper's hold he had found himself in. Fists tightly clenched, Claude agreed hollowly, "Yes. Yes of course."_

_His eyes remained firmly fixed on Hilda's until she was led out of the room and away from his sight._

That had been the last time any of them had seen her. Ignatz and Lysithea had stubbornly gone behind his back to ask Lady Rhea if they could visit her. They'd even appealed to Seteth and Flayn. Though the siblings had been sympathetic to their pleas, and has evidently made quite the argument to Rhea on their behalf, nothing had come of it. It wasn't unexpected. Part of the persuasiveness of having Hilda as a bargaining chip was the uncertainty as to her welfare. There was no way Rhea would loosen her hold when she was so close to getting what she wanted.

Similarly, Claude knew that there was nothing that would spare them if they returned empty handed. Their only chance would be to slay the Knights sent to escort them and flee. The list of casualties from that decision would be immense. Hilda, Raphael's sister, Leonie's village, Lysithea's parents, hell, who was to say Count Gloucester would not be made to hunt down his own son. This truly was the path of least resistance.

Not just for them, but for the others too.

_"You kids need to win the Battle of the Eagle and Lion tomorrow."_

_Of all of the things Claude expected Jeralt the Blade Breaker to say to them after dragging them from their beds well after midnight, that was not even among the top 100. Perhaps it was the bleariness from being awakened so rudely, but Claude couldn't wrap his head around that one._

_"No offense, Captain Jeralt," Leonie smirked. "But, we don't need you to tell us that. We already planned to. We have trained hard you know."_

_Jeralt's expression was usually pretty serious, but nothing like this. He and Hilda shared a look. Something was wrong. "We were told that the winners of the battle would receive a reward," Hilda offered, face carefully masking any suspicion. "Do you happen to know what that might be, Captain?"_

_"It's nothing you kids will want," the older man sighed._

_Leonie's brow arched in confusion. "Well, that stinks. I, for one, wasn't doing it for the prize though. Knowing how strong we've gotten will be reward enough for me."_

_The sinking feeling in Claude's stomach only grew more and more heavy every moment that Jeralt drew this out. What could possibly cause a man like him to hesitate? "Let us be the judge of that," he beseeched. "What're the stakes?"_

_It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, but finally, he sighed. "I'm sure it won't surprise you to know that Rhea doesn't give a damn who wins this thing. There's only one thing on her mind right now."_

_"Finding the Professor," Hilda confirmed, looking just as uncomfortable as Claude felt. "You haven't happened to have any luck on that front, have you, Captain Jeralt?"_

_Jeralt shook his head. "Nothing useful. A squadron was attacked and ensorcelled towards the Southern border of Adrestia and the Alliance. Despite tearing the surrounding regions apart looking, we never found anything. Hard to tell if they're laying low or if they just moved out of the range we were searching in. Suffice it to say, Rhea isn't pleased with my lack of results. I can't prove it, but something tells me she's going to do something drastic pretty soon."_

_Leonie stuttered, "Uh, drastic how exactly?"_

_"You ever hunted for a pack predator, Leonie? A wolf maybe?" The girl shook her head. The metaphor was a bit too on the nose. It made Claude's skin itch. "It's hard to separate one wolf from the pack. Best chance of that would be to bleed an animal they hunt themselves to lure out a scout. From there, you could use that scout to trap the rest."_

_Claude's heart skipped a beat. No. No way._

_Hilda shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "No offense, Captain, but what does that have to do with a mock battle?"_

_"She's going to use us as bait," he whispered, ice chilling the blood in his veins. "Whoever wins the mock battle tomorrow gets to be bait. To lure Teach out of hiding."_

_Jeralt nodded solemnly. "Bingo."_

_"I don't understand though," Claude continued. "If that's the case why does it matter who wins? The result would still be the same."_

_"Would it?" Jeralt challenged. "If she ordered you to track down Byleth right now, what would you respond?"_

_"Hell no," Leonie hissed. "I know our Professor. There's no way she did something bad enough to warrant this. I want nothing to do with this gross manhunt."_

_"Exactly. The Eagles and Lions kids would likely say the same. Even if they did say yes, who's to say that Byleth would take the bait? They were closer to her than the Knights, but they still weren't her kids. I can think of one thing that would raise enough of a fuss that no one in all of Fodlan, Byleth included, would be able to ignore it." He paused, letting the idea sink into their minds for a moment. Claude's mind licked at the edges of an answer, but it felt too far fetched to even consider. Sighing, Jeralt spared them the mental effort. "If one of the three houses was sent on a mission and never came back, the whole continent would hear about it. This year, the future Emperor, King and Duke are all at the academy. Someone like that dies on a Church ordained mission? Doesn't matter where she is, Byleth would find out. And not even she would dare stay away after that."_

_Claude felt his stomach bottom out. The wave of nausea was so intense, he actually had to clap a hand over his mouth to still the urge to puke up his guts. Leonie and Hilda looked no better off, both pale with shock. Intrinsically, Claude felt the need to argue against that idea. The social and economic consequences would be dire. No matter how powerful the Central Church was, none of their countries would take that lying down. It would start a war._

_But, would Rhea care? Could Claude guarantee that it wasn't possible? That she wasn't that far gone? He already knew the answer and he hated it immensely. Those questions weren't even the one that most needed to be addressed. The real conundrum was: was Claude willing to risk Edelgard or Dimitri's lives if he was wrong?_

_"If," Hilda started, wetting her lips nervously. "If we were sent after her, do you think the Professor would come back with us?"_

_Jeralt stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I can only hope so. At the very least, I get the feeling that Rhea would feel confident in your ability to force her to come back, if push came to shove. This is all just a series of hunches. Definitely a worst case scenario. Just...I'm trying to think of way where Byleth gets out of this unscathed and I'm coming up frustratingly empty. If there's anyone who can get her to come back without a fight...it's you."_

_"Never discredit a wild hunch," Claude interrupted. "If you're right, then it needs to be us on that chopping block. It's our best shot of this not going horridly awry."_ _Neither Hilda nor Leonie could argue. Addressing Jeralt, Claude lifted his chin. "We'll heed your warning. But, if we do, there's something I'd like you to do for me..."_

A fat drop of rain landed on his forehead, refocusing his attention. In Almyra, there was an old wive's tale that rain could rinse away indecision. Claude chuckled humorlessly. Lucky for him, there was not a shred of hesitation left in him.

"Claude," a familiar voice called from behind him.

"Shamir," he greeted apathetically, not moving from his spot, prone on the ground. 

"Looks like our information was solid. They've been spotted, only a kilometer or so east of our location. The Knights are ready to engage at your signal."

Sitting up, Claude kept his gaze directed at the sky. "Send a group of Pegasus Knights east, past their location, then circle back and put pressure on them. Chase them to us. I want them as close to the central hill as possible."

Shamir was silent for a moment, likely debating asking for further instructions. When it became apparent he had nothing else to say, she set off to deliver his orders. The rain was a steady drizzle now. A rumble from above him shook the ground. Wouldn't be long before the downpour started. Reaching into his pocket, Claude retrieved the gift Rhea had given him before they set off to march. A ornamental silk cloth, gorgeous and frilled, stained red by the the blood stained ring wrapped up inside of it. Claude had recognized it immediately. A gorgeous ruby set in rose engraved gold. Holst's latest gift to Hilda, back when she first entered the Academy. Claude didn't need to imagine what had become of the finger this ring had once been on. He just hoped that was the only appendage Hilda lost over this whole mess. 

Taking a deep breath, Claude wrapped the ring back up and returned it to its hiding place. For all the turmoil her "gift" had caused him along the march here, Claude did truly want to thank Rhea for bestowing it to him. It served as a reminder that he could not fail here. One so potent and all consuming that things like doubt could no longer touch him. When all this was over, Claude would be sure to repay that debt.

An arrow through the bitch's eye socket would likely suffice.

A flash of lightning cut through the sky, followed by the sky opening its flood gates in earnest. It was time. Claude stood, walking to the edge of the cliff to look over the expanse of Gronder Field. Behind him, he could feel the anticipatory looks from his fellow Deer upon his back. The irony of this moment did not escape him. How quaint it was that a group of Deer would be hunting a pack of Wolves. And there was truly no better stage for this momentous reunion. Giggling to himself, Claude tilted his head back and let the rain pour over his face. It almost felt like fate. 

Turning to his friends with a predatory grin upon his face, Claude brandished his bow. "Let's go show our beloved Teacher how much we've grown."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple notes: 
> 
> 1) The title is from the saying "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb." It's the TRUE version of blood is thicker than water and means that the bonds you make with your promises (like blood brothers) is a stronger hold than genetics.  
> 2) Yes there is a Darling in the Franxx reference in this chapter. It was a weird ass anime but it was so pretty. And some of the romance was on point.  
> 3.) The name. It was really hard for me to think of a name that would fit Yuri. I wanted something that was cute but also felt mischievous. Like a trouble maker name but classy. Luka was what I came up with. I know it's not fancy Yuri Leclerc, but I like it. (If you disagree, that's chill. It won't be used too much anyway)  
> 4.) I know. I have been awful to Claude and Hilda. I can only guarantee you that the situation will come to a head next chapter and be resolved shortly there after.  
> 5.) Is it obvious who my boys are? I feel like it's obvious. If not...I FUCKING LOVE LINNY. Omg. He was the thing that saved Crimson Flower for me. I love that he was one of the only people to go "uhhh, Edelgard, this is actually bullshit." I wish he had done that to her face. Ack. You will be seeing more of Felix and Linny. Trust me.
> 
> We have arrived. This is where the story starts moving a lot quicker. It is gonna be rough for a little while here friends. Don't know what to tell you other than that. I'll try and make it as painless as possible.


	9. Pack Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They broke through the trees and into a plain separated by a stream. Across the bridge was their goal: a small fort atop steep stairs right in the middle of the field. Perfectly defensible location, but it was tiny. With way too many entry points. If things got ugly, it would probably hurt them more than help them to rely on a crutch like that position. 
> 
> And things were about to get really freaking ugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, wow. It was a struggle and a half to get myself to write this one. I rewrote huge sections of it maybe 3-4 times? There's a lot going on and I wasn't sure how best to describe it or portray it to you all. Bear with my sentence structure and the fragmented POVs. It'll make sense by the end hopefully.
> 
> Also, you guys know how shit went to hell in three houses during chapter 9? Wellll...this is also chapter 9 and that vibe coincidentally is true here too. And this chapter is a title drop. Double trouble. I will warn you: graphic depictions of violence. Temporary character death is described. Practice self care friends.
> 
> For Gronder Field, I imagined where your units start to be south. The place where the Lions or Deer end up is what I'll consider "the forest". Then the cardinal directions apply. Who knows if that's accurate, but whatever.
> 
> See you on the other side.

Hapi never expected everything to go her way. Her life had taught her long ago that there was a snowball's chance in Ailell of that happening. Even the greatest victories of her recent years were laced with twists and turns and drama. She knew that. But damnit, it was already pouring, they could do without the Pegasus Knights closing in on them. Thank you very much.

The clouds above them darkened the skies so much that Hapi could barely tell how far ahead of them the break in the treeline was. She was sure Coco would have been thrilled if not for the four lance wielding knights chasing her through the skies. And the rain. And the fact that even if they won they still had a long way to go until they could rest. Goddess, she wanted to strangle Yuri-bird. This was an awful idea. 

"Head to the central hill," he had ordered, eyes monitoring the canopy above them as they ran. "We can use the ballista to shoot them down and get some cover."

"It would paint a target on our backs. Make us easy to surround." Chatterbox had a point. The thought of there being reinforcements was down right depressing.

"Got a better idea, darling?"

She didn't. None of them did.

They broke through the trees and into a plain separated by a stream. Across the bridge was their goal: a small fort atop steep stairs right in the middle of the field. Perfectly defensible location, but it was tiny. With way too many entry points. If things got ugly, it would probably hurt them more than help them to rely on a crutch like that position. 

And things were about to get really freaking ugly.

Gronder was surrounded by a high cliff face. B said it was where Lady Rhea creepily spied on the battle from during their time as students. Luckily, it wasn't Rhea standing up there now, but it sure as hell wasn't good news. Knights, a whole legion of them from the looks of it, lined the outskirts of the field. A hundred, maybe two hundred of them, all against their measly five people. It was overkill of gross proportions. And that wasn't even the worst part.

Chatterbox looked like she was about to puke. She just stood there, mouth gaping as she stared in horror at the flag of the Golden Deer flying next to the symbol of the Church of Seiros.

"Dastards," Constance cursed. "Sending students of the officer's academy to fight the Church's battles. Disgraceful."

"Not just any students," Hapi pointed out, eyeing Chatterbox who had yet to take her eyes away from the symbol of the Leicester Alliance. Rhea had truly outdone herself this time, sending Byleth's own students after her. Talk about a low blow. Balthus inched closer to her, trying to give her some comfort but not knowing the words to use. Sadly, Hapi knew they didn't have time to be gentle about this sort of thing. Hopping from her horse, the woman strode towards Byleth in three long strides and slapped her hard across the face. "Wake the fuck up, Chatterbox. Be upset when we're out of this mess. What's the plan?"

B hissed at her for being so inconsiderate. Yuri-bird sent her a sharp warning glare, but made no move to stop her. Cruel to be kind, as was his favorite throw away phrase to explain away his dickish attitude at times. Her not-so-delicate touch worked though. Rubbing at her cheek and evaluating their surroundings, Chatterbox finally snapped out of it.

"Constance, can you make use of this water?"

Coco was an expert in ice and lightning magic. Watery fields were a playground for a mage like her. Good call. "Not quite yet, but soon. Be it a physical barrier or a nasty shock, when the grounds have become a bit more saturated, our foes will learn not to cross us."

"Good, Constance. In the meantime, we should try to split their forces. They wanna take on the Ashen Wolves? We'll they're about to learn how our pack dynamic works. If we space ourselves out a bit, they'll think we're isolated. But a proper wolf pack knows when to back each other up," Yuri-bird decided, doing that creepy telepathic communication thing with Chatterbox. On good days, they could even finish each other's sentences. It was pretty gross, but also useful when they were about to get murdered. Which was pretty often, recently.

Chatterbox piggy backed off of his idea. "It'll be easiest if we are all surrounding the central hill. Just close enough to lend a hand, far enough apart to divide them too. I'll cut through the forest and come at the center hill from the other side. Yuri hold the western edge. Balthus hold the other side of the bridge. Hapi keep the eastern part of the field clear. Constance give them cover. Sound good?"

Yuri didn't look pleased about Byleth going on her own but didn't argue. They all agreed, watching warily as the knights began their approach.

Coco shot one of the Pegasus Knights out of the sky with bolting, shouting down to them, "And what of the reinforcements lingering oh so threateningly on the outskirts? It is not as if we have any aid on the way to give us respite."

Pausing in the middle of the bridge, Chatterbox sent a thoughtful look back at her. Hapi blinked, unsure how to take that stare. "Well, we _could_."

"Hardy har har Chatterbox, nice joke." Now it wasn't just Chatterbox giving her that knowing smile, but Yuri-bird too. "Wait, you are joking right?"

A shit eating grin spread across Yuri-bird's lips. She hated that look. "I don't know, Hapi. We've been through quite a lot of crap recently. And just look where we are now. It's raining, there's an army trying to kill us, we probably won't be making it to that inn tonight. All plenty good reasons to sigh, huh?"

B grinned, pumping his arm at the sky in excitement. "Oh _hell_ yes. I love this plan."

Hapi glared at them all for a moment before rolling her eyes. "Fine. You guys better watch your asses though. No blaming me when this goes sideways."

Yuri gave her a reassuring smile. "Sure sure, just try not to kill the kids. Knights are fair game but minimize losses where you can. You all got that?" At their affirmative, they all set off, rushing towards their positions. This really was going to suck. As if they hadn't gotten enough of this down in Shambhala.

Gathering up all the negative energy and frustration that had gathered in her soul in the last few months, Hapi let out a huge, long sigh. In no time at all, the growls of wolves converging on the knights reached her ears. How fitting. Wolves coming to the aid of wolves. Kicking her horse into a gallop, Hapi headed to her spot.

Time to hunt.

* * *

The situation was almost hilarious. Claude supposed it always had been but he couldn't fully appreciate the humor until he saw it with his own eyes. Between the students and the knights, their forces were over 100 strong. Soldiers armed to the teeth and trained to kill with ruthless abandon, they surrounded their enemies. That large of a task force sent to fight just five people. The Ashen Wolves brought with them no battalions. Carried only meager supplies and their wits. On unfamiliar territory against twenty times their number. It was laughable.

If only Claude felt like laughing.

He had to hand it to them; they had adjusted to the situational change phenomenally. Instead of gathering themselves onto a centralized and easily approachable point, they separated the threat coming at them. The mages were particularly adept at utilizing their terrain to their advantage. There was even a pack of monstrous wolves tearing their reinforcements to shreds on the outskirts of the field. Claude had forgotten about Hapi's little party trick. The numbers were skewed in their favor but Claude knew first hand how efficient these warriors were. It would take more than overwhelming odds to win this fight.

Good. It would have been too boring otherwise.

Strapping his packs onto Petunia's back, Claude called to the other Golden Deer. "Just like we planned. Focus on Constance first. Get her grounded then take her out. Isolate Balthus from Hapi and run out their magic supplies. From there, we just wait until we can tire out Yuri." Leonie and her battalion helped arrange the others, moving her forces closer to him. Shaking his head, Claude corrected her, "Leonie go with Ignatz and Lorenz. You'll need mobility to chase down Constance."

Leonie's brow furrowed, catching on far quicker than he wanted her to. Lorenz sat astride his mount, having no trouble pointing out the obvious. "If mobility is the problem, then would it not make most sense for you to pursue Constance? Being that you are on a wyvern, it should be a simple thing for an archer of your caliber to defeat her. Send Leonie and I after the professor. It isn't as though we have no trained for it."

"Teach is _mine_ ," Claude hissed. "Follow orders for once in your life, Lorenz."

"Going alone after her isn't very wise, Claude," Lysithea argued. "Our original plan was solid. Don't let your personal feelings override your reason."

"Not a single one of you would have the guts to put her down if she refused our request," he growled. "We can't risk the others giving her cover fire. I'm going after her alone. That is final."

Leonie's balked, face aghast. "What? That wasn't what we agreed on, Claude! We promised Captain Jeralt we would bring her back alive! That was the whole point of us being here in the first place!"

He knew. He knew, damnit. Back then, that had fully been his intention. But could they not see how things were different now?! How they no longer had the luxury of wasting time on kindness and faith? Unable to rein in the flood of aggression, Claude scoffed back at her. "We? I made no such promise. I said we would win the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and bring Teach back ourselves. Never did I specify how many pieces she would return in."

A horrific silence fell over their ranks. Marianne cupped a hand over her mouth, expression pained. Lorenz, loud mouth, opinionated Lorenz, for once had no words. And Leonie...well, Claude could not deny that climbing upon Petunia's back and taking the reins was a defense against her potentially shooting him.

"You _monster_! You selfish bastard! I can't believe you would-"

"He's not being selfish," Marianne interrupted, face crumpled in misery. "We're doing this for Hilda, Leonie. I'm sure that if the Professor agrees to come back of her own will, Claude will not harm her. We just...can't afford to lose."

Claude had to hand it to her, that was unexpected. Not unthinkable though. Of all of them, Marianne loved Hilda most, even if the pinkette didn't see it. Claude nodded to her argument, giving Leonie a challenging stare. She still looked livid, but she relaxed her stance, just a bit.

"Fine. If you hurt her, Claude, I will never fucking forgive you."

Leaning forward on Petunia's sadle, Claude laughed humorlessly. "Hold a grudge if you must." So long as they won....it didn't matter how. He would do anything for them, even if it meant being the villain in their eyes.

* * *

  
Balthus didn't mind the rain, really. It washed off the blood as soon as it splattered onto him. Archers had a hell of a time aiming properly in it which made them easy pickins. The worst part really was the mud. He fancied himself a sprightly guy. Not as quick on his feet as Yuri but damn near no one was. Slipping around, nearly landing on his ass when just trying to get enough strength behind his blows to topple the damn Cavaliers and Paladins was really making this whole thing lame.

Still, it was pretty neat how well this strategy of By's was working. Sure, he still had to kick about 20 asses on his own, but it was better than 50. Most of the knights seemed more interested in Constance anyway. Not that he was jealous, of course. He and Hapi were trying their best to stay close. Close-ish anyway. It was hard with how hectic the fight was. When finally there was a break in the mayhem for him to slick back his hair and take stock of his surroundings, he realized that only two enemies remained. One of whom, he recognized.

"Hey! If it ain't the little lady from House Ordelia. Nice to see ya! Sorry it couldn't be under more pleasant circumstances." When Balthus had been staying with the Ordelia house, he didn't remember ever meeting their daughter. Hilda spoke highly of her, though. Speaking of which. "Where's Hilda at?"

The girl looked like a drowned rat. Her white hair clung to her face and gown and he could see her shivering from here. Almost like a ghost, though he didn't like that analogy. Her voice was haunted when she spoke. "Hilda's...not with us."

Something about the way she said it set off alarm bells in his mind. Balthus thought it was a bit strange that he didn't see that familiar head of pink hair. It dawned on him that that might be for a much worse reason than her being too lazy to show up. "Wait...you don't mean that-" Before he could finish, a ball of Miasma shot at him. Jumping to the side, Balthus growled, "Hey! What's that for?! Can't we just talk for a second?"

Lysithea shook her head, hand glowing with another spell already. "My apologies but I don't have time to talk. I don't have time at all. Now surrender or I will be forced to remove you from my way."

The big blond guy at her side tensed up too, fists wrapped in silver gauntlets. These kids weren't here to screw around. If this kept up, he was gonna have to beat her down too. And how would that taste after her parents did him such a nice favor? Well, as sad as it was, he wasn't messing around either. "That's how you wanna play it huh? Fine by me! Let's go, small fry."

The blond grappler charged first, sprinting at him as his companion fired off another spell. Balthus grit his teeth, dodging the magic and punching the blond kid in the face. Damn. This sucked.

* * *

As her sword pierced through the armor of yet another Knight of Seiros, Byleth found herself remembering a conversation she had once had with Felix.

_You fight like a mercenary, not a knight._

It had been a perspective that stuck in her mind far longer than the short training session they had. Until that point, the most common foes Byleth ran across were bandits, common thugs, and the occasional rival troop of mercenaries. After her rather intense training from Spider House, then later Jeralt, those enemies were nothing. Poorly armored, with dull blades and only the rush of battle to push them through. Fighting like a mercenary had never been a thing of renown in her mind. 

Until now.

_You hunger for victory, pure and simple. You may not be aware of it yourself, but I see it. Knights ought to have some hunger. I've always thought so._

Every twirl, every slice and cut and side step felt predetermined in this fight. Rehearsed. The Knights had obviously trained quite rigorously to deal with the Sword of the Creator. They sought to capture it while it was distanced from her, as if that would neutralize it. Their error was that they did so carefully, trying to keep it from rending them into pieces as she tugged it back to her. It was careless as a strategy. Even if they could disarm her, it would not deter her in this fight. Her blade afforded her crowd control and options. It was not the be all, end all. Anyone who thought otherwise was foolish...and likely also dead.

_They depend too much on their swords. Only when they're wrested away do knights consider their hands and feet as weapons._

Byleth saw now what Felix meant. Compared to the Agarthian warriors back in Shamhala, the knights were pathetic. All tactics were scripted, relying on the results of practice yet somehow not experience. Underestimating her left giant holes in their defenses for her to slip through. Beyond their impressive numbers and a way to deal with the Sword of the Creator, they had nothing. They weren't hungry for this victory. It was work. Perhaps that was due to the beginnings of disillusion in Rhea and the Church. Or maybe they were just always that much stronger than their foes. Either way, it made for a piss poor fight.

Three full battalions and their generals had followed her into the woods, hoping to bring her down. Within the passing of what felt like mere minutes, they were slain. She had done her best to spare them where she could. Tearing ligaments and going for the legs instead of the chest. It was not a perfect science. After all, unlike them, she couldn't afford to hold back. Byleth continued her trudge through the forest towards her goal. While her injuries were superficial at best, between them and the mud caking her boots, her mobility was quite hindered. Glancing at the way she had come warily, she figured that the knights would have accounted for that. Sending men in waves would have done them better. That way the next wave could rely on her growing fatigue. Yet, despite the limited visibility from the heavy rain, she saw no other knights in the wings. It made her uneasy. Such blatant sloppiness was almost uncharacteristic.

From the field, Byleth could still hear the sounds of fighting. The Wolves were out there fighting desperately for their lives. No matter how suspect this whole thing was, Byleth would have to press on. 

As she neared the edge of the forest, on the other side of the central hill, as was her goal, a sound caught her attention. Wings. Their flap was almost distorted in the rain, but she was sure there was a flying unit above the tree lining. Forested areas were a blessing and a bane against flying enemies. They gave you cover and hid your movements, sure. It also made keeping your foe in your line of sight difficult. From the frequency of the sound, Byleth concluded the beast was too heavy to be a Pegasus. Thus, it had to be a wyvern. The odd thing was that it seemed to just be hovering there. Perhaps looking for her, or surveying the fight? She crept into a slight break in the forest, spotting the Great Horned Wyvern doing just that. Just floating. At first, she swore it was a trick of the rain, making it hard to visualize the saddle properly. Yet, the longer she stared, the more she realized her eyes weren't poorly adjusted. That wyvern had no rider. She puzzled over that for a moment before awareness hit her like a hammer.

That was just what he wanted her to think.

**Move!** Sothis bid urgently, prompting her to roll out of the way of a threat she still had yet to spot. When she righted herself, sword tightly held in her hand, Byleth noticed an arrow sticking out of the tree she had been standing in front of. Had she stood still, it would have lodged itself in her collarbone. Around her, the pattering of the rain against the muddy ground dampened the sounds of the archer readying another arrow. He was quiet, deathly so. It impressed her as well as worried her. Swallowing heavily, Byleth called out in greeting. "You've gotten much better at stifling your presence, Claude."

Knowing that their game of hide and seek was a bit pointless now, or perhaps just for the drama of it all, Claude slowly stepped out into the opening. His armor was not typical for a wyvern rider; made of leather and well placed plates. Colored to blend in well with this terrain, even accounting for the darkened tones due to the rain. Byleth wondered if that was a recommendation from Petra. She had always had an eye for that sort of thing. Even his bow was carved of a wood with an earthy hue, a detail she would have appreciated if there weren't an arrow notched and aimed at her throat. 

"Heya, Teach. Finally caught up with you."

He sounded purely conversational. Not at all effected by the cruel reality of them staring each other down from opposite sides of a battlefield. That carefree tone warred with the murderous glint in his eyes. Claude had always had that tell. No matter how often she warned him about it, there was very little he could do to fix it. He was an expert at schooling his face into whatever mask he wanted to portray, but his eyes told the story of how he was truly feeling. Byleth had never seen those emerald depths as cold and calculating as they were now.

These were the eyes of a killer.

"Claude," she began, taking a step away from his aim. He effortlessly adjusted, eyes not quite on her own, but sizing up her form. Assessing a threat. "I'm sorry we had to meet again this way. Truly I am. I have no intention of fighting you or the rest of the Golden Deer house."

"How unfortunate," he cooed mockingly. "I very much planned on fighting you."

Byleth balked at his behavior. Was she wrong? Were the Golden Deer not just here at Rhea's command? It seemed so unthinkable. "Why?"

"The Archbishop requests an audience, Byleth Eisner. I think you're smart enough to read between the lines. My orders are to escort you back to the monastery."

Letting the power of her Crest ignite the Sword of the Creator in its red glow, Byleth shook her head. "Not happening, Claude."

Smirking viciously, Claude agreed, "Didn't think so. Which means you've left me with no choice but to make you return with me. By force."

Shaking her head, Byleth cursed aloud. Of all people, she had never expected Claude to dance so gleefully to Rhea's tune. Who else would be better to confront her with, though? It was frustratingly effective. Every fiber of her being rejected the notion of facing him in a real fight. Sadly, it looked like he wasn't going to back down that easily. Looking straight into his eyes, Byleth pleaded with him one last time. "Please. I can't go back there. Rhea isn't who you think she is. This won't end once I've returned to the monastery. If I go back, she will kill me, Claude."

"I know."

Byleth gasped, mouth falling open. "You...know?" Claude nodded, relaxing his hold on his weapon as she did. His gaze was still careful, scrutinizing. At a moment's notice he could fire off a shot at her. Try to kill her. And he was fine with that? She struggled to compare this man, hardened and cruel with the full intent to strike down someone he once fought alongside. His callous response stung like a slap, but no worse than the feeling that the boy she once knew wasn't here anymore. The boy she had helped restring his bows, who had shared meals with her and filled her days with laughter...gone.

"Oh, don't look so surprised. Did you really think this would go differently?" Claude's smile was rueful, fake. For the first time since coming into her view, Claude's eyes drifted to the forest around them. "You know what I find funny Teach? I can't think of a better location for this reunion than here, on Gronder Field. This is the location of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. A mock battle just like our first fight together as a class." His eyes narrowed at her, glare chilling her to the bone. "A battle you should have been a part of. Instead you were off frolicking through Southern Adrestia for months, doing Gods know what."

"I had my reasons!" she cried, returning his glare in full force.

"You abandoned us!" Claude roared. "Left us to deal with the consequences of your actions while you ran like a damned coward. Well I hope it was worth it." Drawing an arrow back on his bow once more, his words came out as a snarl. "I'll give you one last chance to make things right, Teach. Are you going to take responsibility like a good Professor...or would you like me to show you what my time without you taught me?"

Claude's facade slipped further and further away from him the longer he stared her down. That horrid scowl, the dark circles under his eyes, how pale his complexion was compared to normal. What the hell had Rhea done to them, to him? What consequences had he come to bear? Byleth could only imagine. The fight back on the field waged on though. Yuri, Constance, Balthus and Hapi needed her. When this was over, she could think of ways to help Claude...if that was even possible any more. 

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Byleth ducked into a forward roll. She made it choppy on purpose, baiting out his fire, which buried itself in the tree again. With the momentum of tumbling along the ground at her back, she took a wide swipe at him with the Sword of the Creator, forcing him to dodge to the side rather than further the distance between them. If she was going to do this, she needed to get in close. It was the only way she would escape with her life.

The laugh Claude let out was manic, "You can never let things be easy for me can you?!" He fired off another arrow, narrowly missing her shoulder as she rushed forward. Growling in frustration, Claude kicked up some mud at her in an attempt to blind her. It was a good thought, brilliant even, but didn't quite hit the mark, splattering her torso instead. Claude was perfectly proficient at close counters before, but now his precision was deadly. He anticipated her movements, hoping back just enough to get clean shots off where he thought she would go next. Even a Divine Pulse would make it hard to respond to that type of strategy.

This, she thought, slicing one of his arrows in half, was what true hunger looked like.

Byleth let her blade uncoil, side stepping his attack and bringing swinging her blade in a low arc. The jagged edge caught Claude's upper thigh, tearing through the leather padding with ease. No matter how he fought to repress his cry, the pain gave him just enough pause for her to recall her blade and bring it down heavily on his bow. Good quality certainly, but not sturdy enough to withstand her blow. As the wood snapped in two, the string sliced at the boy's face and non-dominate arm.

It shocked her when Claude pushed through that pain, using her unbalanced position to his advantage. When his boot connected with her wrists, she did not have enough grip on her weapon to keep it from flying out of her hands, splashing down in a deep puddle too far for her to retrieve it quickly. Even considering that option gave Claude an opening to press his assault, punching her savagely in the face. The knuckles of his gauntlets were lined with a thin layer of iron, just enough to lacerate the skin on her cheek. 

Claude chuckled menacingly, drawing a silver ax from his side. In return, Byleth brought out the steel sword Jeralt had forged for her when she first joined his troop. The man's expression brightened as he adjusted his stance meant for up close, armed combat. Twirling his ax the way she had seen Edelgard do before, Claude grinned. "That's the spirit! We may as well keep things interesting, huh, Teach?"

Byleth's only reply was to sprint forward, slamming her blade against his own.

* * *

Despite being the closest to Byleth's location in the woods, the downpour prevented Yuri from actually being able to see her. It was pretty annoying, truth be told. 

The benefit was that he could easily mop up any knights foolish enough to try and catch her in a pincer by sneaking by him. It was almost mindless work. Yuri had slipped back into the same rhythm he had gotten used to as an assassin. Picking off any Pegasus Knights or Paladins trying to give him the slip with his bow, stab anyone who made the mistake of getting up close and personal with him. His movements were mostly instinct, very little in the way of planning or strategy.

From his vantage point, he could see Constance darting around, dodging arrows probably. Students from the Leicester Alliance traditionally practiced archery and the more nimble arts. A group of glass canons, capable of doing a lot of damage very quickly but not specializing in enough defensive traits to endure a long battle. Yuri wasn't quite willing to take his attention off of her completely, but he wasn't worried either. Constance was a smart girl. She'd figure it out.

After drenching himself in the blood of about thirty men and women, Yuri was able to catch his breath, head tipped up towards the sky. The rain was a blessing. Cool waters refreshed his overheated skin and washed away any filth coating him. He took in the sounds of the battles raging still around him. So few voices now. Just the students and them left if he had to guess. It was strange; Yuri knew that the main force of the Knights of Seiros were more skilled than this. Many of these poor fools seemed to be somewhat green on the battlefield. Why send soldiers that weren't likely to win? Why play a hand at all if victory wasn't assured?

The sound of a bowstring being drawn back urged his eyes open again. Staring him down from behind her weapon was Shamir Nevrand. Yuri was quite familiar with the name, even more so with her laundry list of accomplishments. Originally of Dagda, Shamir owed Rhea a debt significant enough to place herself in the service of the Church. Her victories were not as numerous or as flashy as Thunder Catherine, but that just made her more interesting in Yuri's eyes. Keeper of the Church's private spy network, sent often on assassinations the Church tended to cover up later, and a remarkable huntress. No wonder the cute little Golden Deer had managed to track them down.

"Well, well," Yuri greeted, twirling his sword across his knuckles. "You're the first real threat I've seen all day. What a treat."

Shamir's expression remained apathetic, denying him the pleasure of a response. Yuri clicked his tongue. Not one for banter then.

"Aww, don't be like that. The least you could do is humor me. Your friends weren't very good playmates." He gestured to the bodies strewn across the field.

Shamir's eyes flickered to them briefly, then dutifully back to him. "They're not my friends. Just people I worked with."

Chucking, Yuri shook his head. "How cold. Can't say I like that way of thinking though. Why do the work if you don't value your goal and allies?"

"Friendship doesn't keep you fed."

Ah. Now there was a sentiment Yuri was familiar with. It was one he himself had believed in once, when the aching of his empty stomach was more pressing than the desire in his chest for honest company. Yuri wasn't a giving person, not like Byleth. He didn't give a damn if Shamir was ever able to shrug off that lonely viewpoint. Didn't mean he didn't feel for her though. "Pity. Guess we'll just have to agree to disagree."

"Fine with me. Can we just get to the part where we kill each other already?"

Licking his lips, Yuri grinned, "As you wish."

As Yuri took a running start towards Shamir, several things happened all at once. First, Shamir shot an arrow at him. Second, an explosion of dark energy from near the bridge distracted him. Third, the air got much much colder, as if the field had been suddenly thrown into the depths of winter. Finally, a tormented scream pierced the air from the forest. The arrow had not even reached the radius of his sword when suddenly, it was retreating, back to Shamir's hands. Yuri retraced his steps, body under the control of something powerful, but foreign.

When it finally released him, the words escaped from his mouth before his mind had a chance to catch up. "You're the first real threat I've seen all day. What a treat." Blinking in confusion, he brought his fingers up to his lips. What the hell?

Across from him, Shamir too looked unsteady, gaze fixated on the forest. They stood in complete silence, breathing heavy and ears piqued for any sign of those same disturbances from before. The scream never came again. Nor did the explosion. All Yuri saw was a blinding bolt of lightning strike somewhere in the eastern field.

"Constance," he muttered, head still trying to make sense of what he had just experienced. Though he had never experienced it himself, Yuri bet he knew what had just happened. The only question in his mind was: why could he remember it happening?

Shamir tucked the arrow back into her quiver, stowing the bow against her back once more. As she turned to leave, Yuri wondered breathlessly, "Don't wanna get to the part where we kill each other anymore?"

The woman paused, glancing back at him just long enough to shake her head. "This fight is already over." Not heeding him any more than that, she stalked across the field towards the road back to Garreg Mach. Yuri's lips quirked into a smirk. How amusing. People who knew no loyalty beyond the job and their own interests were so unpredictable. As well as dangerous. He shuddered to think of what a formal fight against the Knights would look like with that loose canon among their numbers.

Ah well, he thought. Thinking on it longer wouldn't help right now. More importantly, he needed to check on his pack.

* * *

As shitty as it felt to beat the crap out of By's old students, Balthus would take it over the knights any day. The blond kid, Raphael if Lysithea's shouts were to be believed, was pretty good all things considered. He took a hit like a champ, for sure. Balthus woulda bet on him if he ever saw him in the cages at Abyss. Sadly, Balthus knew that he was the stronger grappler between the two of them, even with Lysithea's nasty spells to contend with.

No matter how much they wanted to win, they were still just kids. Raph's legs shook every time he picked himself off the ground. Lysithea's aim was haphazard at best. Poor thing looked like she was about to collapse. That would probably be the best way this could end, Balthus reasoned. He had no interest in killing anyone who was likely being ordered to do something they didn't wanna do. Hapi and Constance were covering each other well. He couldn't see Yuri from his position, but he doubted there was anything these clowns could throw at him that he couldn't handle. The only slightly concerning thing was that By had yet to reappear. She would though. That lady was tough as nails.

Yuri had always chided him about picking the obvious answer when placing bets. Said he underestimated people too much. Balthus didn't much care when all was at stake was some secrets or kisses.

Maybe he should've paid attention.

"Lys," the blond guy panted, chill smile somehow still on his face. "I need you to do me a favor, kay?"

The white haired girl wasn't in much better shape herself. Barely able to lift her arms long enough to guide her magic. "Is this...really the time...Raphael?"

"Only time we have. I need you to make sure my sis ends up ok." What? His sister? What the hell was this kid on? Lysithea didn't look nearly as confused as he did. She just looked scared.

"R-Raph. No..."

"Promise me, kay? You gotta promise."

Something in Balthus's gut clenched at this conversation. He did not like where this was heading, but he wasn't sure if this was the sort of situation where it was best to rush in or wait and see. Damn, he wished Yuri was around.

"I...I promise."

Raphael smiled thankfully. "Good." Balthus got no further warning before the kid charged at him with a shout. He kept his body low, a much lower position than one would normally throw a punch from. It hit Balthus the same time the blond did that he was going in for a grapple. Damnit. The force of such a bulking guy tackling him was almost enough to throw him off his feet. Almost. Balthus took a cheap shot at his side, right where his kidneys would be. No matter how he struggled, the kid just wouldn't let go. He figured out why the hard way. Raphael wasn't trying to out grapple the King of Grappling.

He was trying to keep him still.

The Miasma spell ripped through them like wild fire. It burned. Almost insanely. The brunt of it scorched his arms and left side. The pain only lasted for a little bit, then he just couldn't feel anything there at all. Balthus wasn't the best healer in the world but even he knew that that was bad. Really bad.

Despite the blurry vision, hair hanging in his face and the mud, Balthus could tell that they were both really fucking roughed up. The kid laid across his chest like a dead weight and his limbs were too weak to move him. Just from the sight alone, Balthus knew this guy was a goner. His entire back and most of his head was...well, if he did live it wouldn't be much of a life.

Balthus struggled to sit up enough to look at Lysithea. The girl's hands were a mess. Damn near burned to a crisp. It didn't stop her from summoning another orb of dark gas, screaming as it ravaged her already ruined skin. From behind the eery purple glow, Balthus could see that it wasn't just rain running down her cheeks. There were tears. Of pain, of sorrow, of anger.

_Never discredit the usefulness of desperation. It makes even peaceful people dangerous._

Yuri had told him that more than once. Somewhere he had known that was true. It was how they'd survived at Shambhala after all. Still, he never thought it would be turned around on him. As the giant ball of swirling dark energy left the girl's hands and came at him, Balthus realized that he would never get the chance to hear Yuri say "I told you so."

He was gonna die.

* * *

These children truly were Byleth's students. It was infuriating, to say the least. Yuri and Byleth's strategy was rushed, but sound. When faced with such insurmountable odds, their best option was to split the burden of eliminating their foes equally and do their best to cover each other. Certainly, it was nothing new or unimaginable. They excelled at such tactics.

If only their foes were not so tenacious.

Two archers had chased her around since their first appearance on the field. One, a boy, had limited mobility due to his status as infantry but made up for it in spades with his inconceivable accuracy. Even from more than half a kilometer away, his arrows were still the hardest to dodge. Keeping him at bay was definitely a challenge.

The other, a red haired girl riding on an armored steed, was not as steady handed, but was exceedingly skilled at horseback riding. No matter how fast or far she flew, the girl was always mere paces away. Impressive, but thoroughly annoying.

Hapi was doing her best to give her coverage. Twice now she had blasted the poor boy off his feet. Sadly, she had her own shadow. The boy following her was the heir of House Gloucester. Constance knew that atrocious haircut from miles away. He wasn't particularly skilled at magic or accurate with his spear, but he was an eager thing. Hapi couldn't focus on shielding her with him so doggedly on her tail.

The worst part though? The blue haired bishop who persistently erased any evidence of their successes from afar. Her range was impeccable and she could restore any one of her comrades to full sprightliness. There was no way they could proceed with her still in the picture. Sending a look at Hapi, she jerked her head towards the girl. The red head nodded, racing to intercept the bow knight. All three at once were sure to do some damage to poor Hapi, but they couldn't afford to play it safe. Once they were thoroughly distracted, Constance made her move.

Constance was confident in her abilities. Even beyond her somewhat fictitious boasting. Archers were her natural counter but mages? Child's play. Any magic used to strike at her, she would simply transmute into strength to return the favor ten fold. Constance stayed high to avoid the long distance arrows, grimacing as she heard Hapi cry out behind her. It would be fine. She could heal her, in time. They just needed time.

Just as she kicked her Pegasus into a dive, Constance realized then that the bishop was saying something. Words so soft she almost couldn't hear them over the rush of wind past her ears.

Eyes red from the tears mixing in with the rain upon her tired face, the girl mumbled to herself. "My life. I have never cared one bit for my life. But hers? I would do anything to spare hers. _Anything_. So I'm so sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave here alive! _I have to do this!_ "

The shrill scream she let out was shocking but Constance didn't falter. Sagittae gathered in her palm, ready to strike down the girl before her when she realized that the air around her had suddenly gotten much colder. Bizarre. Usually winds high above the ground were more frigid. It wasn't until the standing water on the ground below started to glisten that Constance realized her error.

The girl knew ice magic.

Freezing spikes shot up from beneath her, growing too fast and too large to avoid. So much natural ammunition for this attack, Constance felt foolish for not considering that their enemies might use her tactics against them. The ice spears pierced her Pegasus and her before she could even scream. She almost didn't register the impact. Her own momentum carried her further down onto them, til she was jarred to a halt, suspended in the air like a rag doll.

The ice was so cold that she could not feel her injuries. Though, perhaps that was her spine, which had been severed in at least three places. Constance had always surmised that death would be a wretched thing, but almost unidentifiable. This was nothing like that. She knew precisely the status of her being. It was as if time had slowed around her, letting her full appreciate how hopeless her situation was before she passed. Cruel. Utterly cruel.

Then, before she could even question it, time moved instead in reverse. The spikes retreated back into the puddles below, she and her Pegasus gained altitude. Yet, somehow, she did not forget her upcoming peril. As she was made to retreat, she could clearly identify the spell upon the woman's lips, internalized the words she had uttered. Back and back she went until the moment just before she and Hapi had switched targets. Time releasing her from it's grasp was jolting. Constance gasped, body shaking like it was still covered in frost.

Hapi was clutching her throat and ribs, looking just as alarmed as she was. So it wasn't just her. Still, they had no time to marvel over that twist. There would be time for that later. Sharing another nod, Constance took off towards the girl again, a different plan in mind now.

Before she got close enough to even hear the words escape those pale lips, Constance snapped her fingers, sending a bolt of lightning down on the bishop. Now, the puddles soaking her dress were at Constance's employ. The woman screamed in agony, body convulsing from the lingering shock waves around her. The healer's body had not even hit the ground before Constance was beside her, leaping off her mount with a healing spell in one hand and a sleeping charm in the other.

She had to fight the urge to vomit all over the sleeping girl, body trembling as she searched for Hapi. Words did not describe her elation when she saw the red haired archer sprawled out on the ground, horse fleeing towards the bridge. An arrow had still lodged itself in Hapi's shoulder but it did not keep her from knocking the sniper unconscious with a well timed banshee. From there, the Gloucester boy was easy to incapacitate.

"Oh thank goodness," Constance shuddered, heart still racing in her chest.

Hapi made her way over to where Constance was collapsed on the ground slowly, face still very pale. Relief further brightened her mood when Balthus emerged from the south, bruised and tired, but alive. They all stared at each other for a moment before she finally managed to stutter out the question on all of their minds.

"What...what in the world was that?"

Balthus's mouth fell open. "You felt it too?! I was damn sure me and that blond kid were toast."

Hapi dismounted her horse, rubbing her soaked shoulders as she healed herself in a futile attempt to give her back some warmth. "So creepy. Like...one minute I was dead, the next, I was about to be dead. Crazy weird."

"It must have been Sothis's time magic," a familiar voice called from the central hill. They all beamed at the sight of their beloved leader, looking frustratingly beautiful despite the abhorrent weather and the blood on his armor. No one looked more pleased than Balthus though. Despite their sometimes argumentative relationship, the two really did adore each other.

"Yuri! You made it!" 

Scoffing, the purple haired man waltzed calmly towards them. "Of course I made it. Who do you take me for?" His unaffected facade did not hold as well as he would have liked. By now, Constance had learned to read the subtle truths of his expressions. He was worried.

"I suppose we still have no word from Byleth?"

Yuri's eyes met hers for a moment before he shook his head. "None."

"Ehh, she's prolly fine. By's a tough chick." Balthus stretched out his shoulders, eyes still carefully watching their surroundings for enemies.

"I don't know," Hapi mumbled dubiously. "I can't tell if her throwing time in reverse is a good sign or a really really bad one."

"It must mean that she is alive at least," Constance reasoned. "Perhaps she was accosted by danger, but Sothis's power is a fail safe, is it not? Surely, she too would have identified her error and corrected it."

Yuri crossed his arms. "It's the magnitude that worries me. She used that magic three times while we were in Shambhala, but not once was it potent enough to affect us."

Balthus frowned, just as ignorant of that fact as the rest of them. "Well, she was pretty far away from us, wasn't she? Maybe it's a distance thing."

"She's far away from us now," Hapi pointed out.

None of them could argue that point. The rain's fall seemed to have lightened, but they were all still soaked and out in the open. There was no telling when further reinforcements would arrive to take advantage of their fatigue. Clearing her throat, Constance suggested, "Let us gather the students and bring them into the fortress. We can decide our next course of action there."

As they worked to find and bind the kids, all alive, but with varying degrees of injury and exhaustion, Constance kept an eye on the forest where Byleth had led away many of the knights. No one said aloud that there were two very important and familiar faces missing from the lineup of students in their custody. While Hilda seemed to not be present at all, Claude was likely a different story.

So long as she was alive it didn't matter, Constance reminded herself. They would get through anything else together. So long as they lived, it would be fine.

* * *

Battle was rarely a mere contest of strength. Hitting a weak point would always hurt the most. A good strategy was often enough to seize the day. Part of that required precise control. Of your body, your mind and most importantly your emotions. 

That was one lesson that Claude had not paid attention to, apparently. The longer they crossed blades, doing far more damage to their weapons than each other, the more furious and unhinged the boy became. His skill with his ax had improved, but it still tired him out too quickly to be his main weapon. It was meant as a pinch defense originally. Just in case his bow broke, until he could gather his wits and find a spare. It showed in every subsequent swing that he had never needed to defend himself with it for this long.

Between his mounting exhaustion and his simmering anger, Byleth found it much easier to draw answers from him.

"Tell me why you're really here," she goaded, dodging a sloppy strike and parrying it effortlessly. "I know you, Claude. There's no way you would let her use you like this without a reason."

"You know nothing!" The blow he retaliated with was strong, but put as much pressure on his arms as it did hers. Side stepping it and kicking him in the stomach to regain some distance was all too simple. Claude coughed, glaring at her with an unfocused gaze.

"What is she threatening you with?"

Claude's lips curled into a cruel snarl, "Like you care."

That slight she was unable to brush off. Shaking her head, Byleth urged, "Of course I do!" Her student charged once more, sliding his ax against the length of her blade in a shower of sparks. The hilt of the blade creaked in warning. It wouldn't last much longer. Neither of them would. "You all changed me. Being with you was the light of my life." Pushing him back, Byleth pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. "But I couldn't return to the monastery knowing what I did after Abyss. I just couldn't. I would have taken you all with me if I could, but you wouldn't have been in less danger there."

"Cheap talk!" Claude growled, taking a huge chunk out of the trunk of a tree. His emerald eyes were made of fire and brimstone when he spat, "You made a selfish choice and it screwed us over. Nothing you can say will change that."

Byleth took a couple steps back. Her arms screamed at the simple effort of lifting her sword. This battle of endurance was going to be over sooner than later. She knew she was capable of winning, but she wouldn't be able to sleep well without at least trying to reach out her hand to the man before her. One last time, Byleth lowered her sword to her side and beseeched him, "Screwed you over how, Claude? Help me understand."

His legs and arms shook from the weight of keeping himself upright, but the fire in his voice was far from extinguished. "You wanna know so badly?! Fine. Rhea has Hilda." Byleth gasped, chest tightening at the implication. Suddenly, this whole tragic thing made perfect sense. Claude couldn't disobey Rhea openly. The best shot he had at saving her was following orders. Even if he didn't like it. Damn her. Damn that wretched monster to hell. "If I don't bring you back with me, Hilda's going to be the first in a long line of blood spilled in your name." Gritting his teeth, Claude pushed passed his exhaustion to charge at her with his feeble ax. "Are you happy now?!"

The meeting of their blades was enough force to shatter both weapons. Byleth stumbled back, holding the tattered remains of her sword weakly in her hand. Claude tossed his ruined ax aside with a huff, placing two filthy fingers to his mouth, making a sharp whistle. Byleth heard the beast cutting through the tree tops to reach him before she fully realized what he was doing. Grunting, she launched herself out of the way of the wyvern's landing, rolling to a stop conveniently near her discarded Relic. 

That next moment was simultaneously the fastest and slowest of her life. Before her hand even could grip the hilt of the Sword of the Creator, Byleth realized that Claude's goal was to retrieve his spare bow from the saddle of his wyvern. A smaller bow, with less range, but a quicker draw. When she whipped the serpentine blade towards him, it was in hopes of cutting the arrow he fired out of the air and maybe destroying his weapon. Too late, she realized that the force she had put behind her swing would carry the blade much further than she intended. She watched in horror as the tip of her sword cut through not just the bow, but also the bare skin of his throat. It was a knee jerk reaction that caused her to yank back the blade, not considering that it would also rip away the flesh lodged around it. Blood poured from the gaping would, far too much and too fast for any healing magic to mend.

Stunned, Claude looked at his bloodied hand in almost disbelief. He dropped to his knees in the mud, shaking as he looked up at her. "Not yet," he gurgled, looking scared. Terrified. The pain likely wasn't even registering beyond his shock. Reaching out a trembling hand to her, he begged wetly. "Please. Teach. I can't....help me." Then, as if he could hold himself up no longer, he collapsed. Byleth scrambled towards him, abandoning her blade on the ground. Frantically, she pressed a hand against his neck, warm from the blood still leaking heavily from it. She cast recover once, then twice, then a third time, sobbing hysterically when her efforts could not undo the damage she had done.

The rising hysteria built and built as she cradled her dying student, her first true friend, against her. Finally, an anguished scream tore from her lungs and the energy it released grabbed at the fabric of time, throwing it in reverse. Back and back, until her wide eyes focused on the moment his wyvern landed. When Claude was whole and breathing and was not about to bleed to death due to a careless mistake on her part. When she felt time flow naturally forward again, the relief of seeing him aiming his weapon at her was so intense that she made no attempt to shield herself. His arrow pierced her shoulder, knocking her back onto her rear end in the mud. The entry point burned, from the poison Claude had no doubt laced the arrowhead with.

Byleth couldn't tell who looked more surprised: her or Claude.

"You could have dodged that," Claude accused, lowering his bow.

The sting in her shoulder distracted her from the bout of nausea threatening to upend her stomach. "I could have."

Claude's voice came out as a shout but it was more incredulous than angry. "Well why didn't you?!"

Why didn't she? Because she didn't want to risk killing him again. Because she was tired of fighting him. Because she would rather be the one bleeding out than ever have to witness something that horrific ever again. She didn't say any of that though. "I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have." Lowering her head, Byleth allowed herself to surrender to him. If he chose to kill her, so be it. "Do what you need to."

"You're just giving up? Just like that? _Bullshit_ , Byleth."

**Are you sure?** Sothis wondered. Byleth knew what she was thinking of. It was on her mind too. If she gave up here, all that she and the Wolves had been working for would be for naught. There were some battles you couldn't run from, though. She had told Linhardt that once, when he confided in her that he did not want to kill anyone. It wasn't fair. Her life, by all rights, should have belonged to her and her alone. But it didn't. It never had. From the moment she had been born, she was tied to this fate. Running from it further, while it had made her so happy at the time, would only cause others misery.

She had to stop. For their sake. For the sake of never losing another student like she just had ever again.

Smiling ruefully, Byleth explained, "You gave up fighting the moment she took Hilda, Claude...I see that now. Fighting each other is senseless."

Claude dropped his bow, hand coming up to clench at his chest. "You don't think I've tried to avoid this?! I have! I didn't want to fight you. I _loved_ you. You were my Teach. I wanted...I wanted to..." He trailed off, eyes growing glassy. All his aggression and anger bled into a nervous agitation. Claude's whole body trembled. "I've spent _weeks_ wracking my mind, trying to think of any hair brained scheme that would get us all out of this alive. But I can't! I've got nothing. She's taken every option I have away from me. I can't fight, I can't run, I don't want to die, so what do I do?!" The proud, confident leader of the Golden Deer, future Duke of the Alliance dropped to his knees, hands pulling savagely at his hair. "Tell me!! Please, Teach ...what am I supposed to do now?!"

He broke off into heavy, heart broken sobs, curling up into a miserable ball before her.

When this whole thing started, not just this journey, but this chapter of her life, Byleth had made the decision to teach the Golden Deer. Claude was joking at the time, but truly, she had chosen him, not just their house. It was an arbitrary choice. Not based on much evidence, just a vague feeling. Never had she regretted that decision, though. Then, recently, she had picked herself. And the Ashen Wolves chose her too. Despite knowing that she was a vigilante problem solver, despite her habit of finding trouble and dragging people unwittingly into her web of secrets, danger and ancient magic. They chose her. Yuri chose her.

And choosing her had harmed the Golden Deer. It wasn't fair but lamenting that wouldn't change anything. She couldn't live with herself, with the future they would secure, if she let them suffer for her sake anymore. 

Byleth struggled over to where Claude was and knelt beside him. The boy did not fight her as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Pressing her face into his soaked hair, Byleth smiled. "I'm proud of you, Claude. You've become an amazing fighter and a good leader. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." The breath coming from him hitched in his chest, hiccuping as he wrapped his arms around her and clutched her desperately. Byleth let him weep into her uninjured shoulder, rubbing gently at his back. She was a pack animal at heart after all and Rhea knew that. When one of her family was hurt, she would come running. Her chest was heavy from the knowledge that even now her choices were bound to hurt someone. Four someones at the very least. One more than the others. It couldn't be helped though. She was sure of her decision.

She chose the Golden Deer again. 

* * *

The full story of why the Golden Deer were among the group sent to kill them was just as predictable and disgusting as Yuri had feared it would be. Of course Rhea had resorted to using a hostage as a motivator. And who better to hit Byleth where it hurts than her darling Deer? It was so obvious of a play it made Yuri want to vomit.

It was a girl named Leonie who had spilled the beans. Quite easily too. Apparently this whole mess was Claude's brilliant mind at work, deceiving even his underlings into thinking this would be a mission where they could get away without violence. Byleth's father had given them a head's up about Rhea's next steps. The Deer had made sure they were the most attractive option for her scheme, hoping to negotiate with Byleth to bring her back. In return for her safety, Jeralt had set off to Derdriu with a letter from Claude hoping to unit the Alliance forces in a march against Garreg Mach. Given that Judith of House Daphnel was in Claude's corner, that was surprisingly more plausible than Yuri first assumed. Sadly, Hilda being captured had thrown a wrench into their plot and pushed Claude over the edge.

That particular bit of information was enough for Yuri to unsheathe his sword and march off towards the forest, uncaring of the shouts from his comrades and the Golden Deer behind him. Yuri respected Claude. Liked him, to some degree. He would also not hesitate to gut him like a pig if he laid one hand on his fiancee.

Something that seemed to be unfortunately necessary given the state they both were in when Yuri found them. They were both coated in filth, Claude pouring antitoxin on an arrow wound on her shoulder. One he himself had probably put there. Her being alive at least did a lot to calm him, but Claude's defensive stance and fierce hold on her arm when he was spotted made Yuri feel just a tad homicidal. 

"Get your fucking hands off of her, Claude," he growled as he drew nearer. The future Duke met his demand with a cold stare, retrieving an arrow from his quiver in warning. A fight then? Good. His brief chat with the Deer had done nothing to work the adrenaline out of his system. This fight he might actually enjoy.

Byleth did not seem to agree with their decision to play this out. "Yuri, stop. Claude please, give us some space."

"No can do, Teach." The brunette placed his body physically between Yuri and Byleth. Almost as if he were protecting her. Ha! That only aggravated Yuri further. "I trust you to keep your word but not him."

"Good instincts," Yuri sneered. "Too bad they don't seem to be good enough to ensure your survival. Release her or I will make you, little Deer."

"I'd like to see you try. Where the hell are my men? And Shamir?"

"How cute of you to pretend to have a conscious. A bit late for that though. Your Deerlings are fine. Filled me in on what's been happening since we left. Shamir took off the moment she realized you all weren't going to win." Claude's shocked expression made the petty part of Yuri preen. "Such _loyalty_ you've inspired, Duke von Riegan."

Byleth pushed past Claude to snap at him. "Yuri, enough!" Turning back to her former student, Byleth lowered her voice to something almost comforting. "Just a moment, Claude. Please."

The boy stared critically at her for a moment. It was obvious that he was run down. Chronic insomnia paired with superficial injuries made for quite the messy picture. Whatever sympathy that may have earned him once was nonexistent now. All Yuri could see at this moment were openings. Ones he would gladly exploit if push came to shove. Finally, the archer took two shaking steps away from Byleth, eyes burning holes in Yuri's form.

Something about the expression on Byleth's face had him shaking his head before she even opened her mouth. "Yuri, I have to go with them."

He should have expected this. The moment they saw the banner of the Golden Deer flying above the field, he should have insisted on staying with her. Then maybe they would have been able to knock that silver tongued Lordling unconscious and gone about their business. But this? This was just Byleth's beautiful, stupid, tender heart bleeding for her children. A vestigial connection that would do nothing but get her killed. Yuri didn't try to keep the mocking tone out of his voice when he hissed, "Because your _wittle kiddos_ asked you nicely? That is a fucking death sentence, Byleth. No. I won't allow it."

Byleth closed her eyes for a moment against his rage, gathering her thoughts. Yuri had never had to argue with her before so he hadn't the slightest clue what she was like when confronted, but her calm demeanor only served to make him more irritated. "Rhea is going to kill them if I don't return, Yuri. It's them or me. I could never accept something like that. I wouldn't be able to live with it."

"But you'd be alive!" He grit his teeth. "Feel all the regrets you need to, darling. They will pass. We can sit and cry over the sacrifices necessary to carve a path to our future when we get there. I'm not losing you like this."

That got a little spark out of her. "You'd sacrifice your life for your people in a heartbeat wouldn't you?" She glared at him, tone carefully controlled. "Well these are _my_ people. I have to."

Damn her. Damn that logic which was annoyingly sound. Running his hands roughly through his still wet hair and turning away from her, Yuri cursed, "You're a damn fool, Byleth. Fuck."

The small bit of defiance in her expression melted away. All that was left was concern, maybe regret. "I'm _sorry_ , Yuri."

Whirling around to face her again, he scoffed. "Sorry? No. Sorry is for when you step on me when you get up in the morning. Sorry is for when you yawn into a kiss because you're too tired. Or say something insensitive that you didn't mean. You don't get to say sorry for ripping my heart out of my chest and stabbing it!"

The rain had stopped at this point. Even the thunder had mostly faded to a dull whisper. Logically, he knew the wetness coating his cheeks wasn't rain. That didn't mean he wanted to admit it, though. Byleth bit her lip against the flow of her own tears. Such strong displays of emotion were still rare for her. Every day, she showed him more and more, though. This wasn't one he was particularly proud of sadly. She closed the distance between them, laying a hand on his arm, uncaring of how tense he still was.

"Yuri. I love you. I do." Shaking her head, she sniffled, leaning into him until he relaxed. Her eyes were so soft and full of love. Any other time he would love that. Want to kiss those tears away and force a smile from her. Not now though. "This...this was worth it. I lived more in the past few months than in 21 years. Thank you. And I am sorry."

Yuri closed his eyes, head bowed in defeat. There was no changing her mind then. His only options were to knock her out, take out Claude and run far away...or let this happen. Damnit. They had won this battle against all odds, but it seemed that Claude had won the war. No, Yuri corrected. More accurately it was Rhea that won. No matter how pissed he was, he couldn't let himself forget that Claude was just a pawn in her twisted game. The idea of losing to that crazy old lizard was even more annoying.

Eyes creeping open, Yuri remembered what Leonie had said. An army being raised from the Alliance, hoping to strike at Garreg Mach by the end of the Ethereal Moon. The connections that they had sent off for would have replied by then as well. Raising both hands to cradle Byleth's face, Yuri decided that she was right. He would sacrifice anything for his people. She was his people. And he wasn't about to let her walk away.

Kissing her forehead, Yuri replied, "Don't be sorry. You'll see me soon."

It took no time at all for understanding to flood into her eyes. "Yuri. Don't be foolish."

"I can't be. You're taking all the dumbass with you when you go." Resting his head against her, he looked deep into her eyes. "Listen...stay alive. I mean it. Don't you fucking give up on me. This isn't over." Byleth's eyes glistened, expression far less grim, bordering on hopeful. "I'll come and get you. Then we'll skin that damn lizard like she deserves. Just hold on til I get there. Ok?"

Byleth nodded, "Ok."

"Good." Yuri leaned in and kissed her, long and deep. It didn't matter that Claude was there, likely watching. In fact, maybe he liked that he was. Yuri wanted him to see that while he was Byleth's past and affected her present, Yuri was her future. Not him. Not her little kiddos. Yuri. It was a desperate kiss, a hint of salt reminding him that these conditions were not ideal. This couldn't be their last kiss. He wouldn't let it be. He still had a ring to buy. And a cake. Pulling away slowly, Yuri swallowed, "I love you. I'll see you soon."

Walking with Claude and Byleth back to the fortress felt like a death march. Yuri didn't let the mood stick to him though. He had to focus on his next steps. Operating with Byleth at his side all this time had been such a relief. It felt like he was missing a limb, thinking of plans without her judgement to reassure him. As the Deer packed up for their return trip, Claude pulled Yuri aside.

"If you're looking for allies in this whole mess, you may want to make the trip to Daphnel territory. It's a long way, but if our preparations there have gone as planned, Jeralt and Judith will be calling a meeting with Dimitri and Edelgard soon enough."

Yuri's brows raised. "The big three all playing nice and working together? Never thought I'd see the day."

Claude deadpanned, "Trust me, me neither." Before he saddled up for the trip, Claude gave him a complicated glance. "Thank you, Yuri. You're a bigger man than I am. I wouldn't have been able to agree to this were I in your place."

Yuri smiled sweetly, voice dripping with fake friendliness. "Don't thank me yet. If this goes south before we can get to the monastery, I _will_ take out all my thinly veiled aggression on you. String your innards from the gates of Derdriu and all that nonsense. Understood?"

He didn't get a vocal reply. He also didn't need one. As the academy kids and Byleth headed off on their way, Yuri turned to the Ashen Wolves with a savage grin.

"C'mon, Wolves. We've got work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the backdrop for Claude and Byleth's fight clearly laid out in my mind since the beginning of chapter 2. I just hope that I did the vision I had in my mind justice. Their relationship is the one I fell in love with first in Three Houses. It's still one of the best imo. I'll always love my Claude, even if I torture him in this fic.
> 
> The name I use for Claude's white wyvern is Josephine. She appears in all my other fics. I came up with the name Petunia for this one because in flower language can symbolize anger and resentment...and this wyvern belongs to a version of Claude who is quite angery.
> 
> We're getting close to the end here. School is all online now and is kinda a mess so I'll do my best to keep writing. Love y'all. Stay safe!


	10. Moratorium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you die to a creepy witch like Rhea, I will learn necromancy, resurrect you from the dead and kill you again. A minimum of twice. Understood?"
> 
> Running a thumb along Hapi's arm, Byleth nodded. "I hear you loud and clear, Hapi."
> 
> Byleth stood and watched them sit astride their mounts, eyes following them until they were nothing but blurs of color on the horizon. There was little Byleth wanted more than to be riding off with them. Just one more night eating and laughing under the stars. Listening to Hapi's outrageous and hilarious tales. Playing cards with Balthus and Yuri. Serving as a test dummy for Constance's strange but mostly harmless spells. Sleeping curled up in Yuri's arms, certain that no matter what the next day hit them with, they would prevail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm....hi! I know it's been forever. School has been kicking my ever loving ass. And will continue to do so for two more weeks. But, instead of studying, I wrote you guys this. Think of it as my contribution to Yurileth week since I may not be able to write anything new.
> 
> This chapter is mostly setting up for the final act. You'll have to excuse how jumpy things seem. I started with the last scene...then the second...then the first...and filled in the rest. I'm a mess. Anyway, it exists, so...enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, reference to sex work

Had Byleth not just finished crying only a few minutes prior, watching the hope and excitement melt off of the faces of her darling Ashen Wolves when she emerged from the forest would have summoned tears to her eyes once more. They all looked exhausted, which shouldn't have surprised her. She wasn't the only one risking life and limb out there. Just from a simple glance at her, and of Claude still hovering protectively at her side, they could tell that their desperate struggle had spared their lives, but they hadn't won. Not really.

"Byleth," Constance greeting, eyes looking haunted, scared. "I am...glad to see that you are unharmed." Her tone and her words did not match.

Hapi was less willing to beat around the bush. "What the hell, Chatterbox?" she growled, motioning to Claude. "We each took on about three of your precious little students, but you couldn't even handle one? What's up with that?"

"It wasn't that, Hapi. I surrendered."

"You-...what?!" If the redhead was annoyed before, she was livid now. Her screams echoed across the deathly quiet fields. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Why? We had them!"

A large hand settled on the woman's shoulder. Balthus's face was a mess of bruises, but mostly he just looked sad. "Leave it, Hapi. You heard what Leonie and the others said. About Hilda. 'Course By's not gonna just leave 'em high and dry after hearing that."

"Oh well that's real nice for them, but what about us? What are _we_ supposed to do now?"

Byleth shook her head, arms crossed over her torso. "That's up to you, Hapi. You can go back to your village. Hide out there until this whole thing blows over."

Hapi's eyes narrowed dangerously at her, as if she was one wrong word away from casting miasma at her face. "How about no? Serious answers only, Chatterbox."

"I was being serious."

Constance stepped forward, eyes suspiciously red rimmed, though Byleth was not so heartless as to point that out. "And you should know better than to offer us such a pusillanimous course of action. Us? Run and hide while you are in danger? Not a chance." The blond smirked as confidently as she could manage. It lifted Byleth's spirits a bit. "You're set on returning to the monastery to aid the Golden Deer. That much is readily apparent. Now all that remains is to determine how precisely we can aid in your escape from that wretched place!"

"We'll meet up in Daphnel territory at the height of the ethereal moon," Yuri declared, walking over from where he had been having a conversation with Claude. "Jeralt Eisner and Judith von Daphnel are hosting a war council there. We can plan our next move from there."

"Splendid! Shall we head there at once?"

Yuri shook his head, "You all go ahead. I'll meet up with you there. There's something I need to take of first."

Ah. His mother. They had planned to go check in on her after visiting Enbarr. If their next stop was all out war with the Church, this was likely the only time Yuri was guaranteed to be able to visit her. Her heart ached a bit knowing that not only may she never get the chance to meet the woman that raised Yuri now, but he would also have to make that visit unsure whether he would ever see Byleth again. Yuri didn't spare them more than a nod and a wave before he headed off on his own.

Constance stuttered out after his unceremonious departure. "Wh- Yuri! You didn't even say goodbye!"

"It's alright, Constance," Byleth comforted her, trying desperately to keep her head held high. "We already said our goodbyes. And you'll all be together soon."

Balthus tugged her into a tight embrace. His body was incredibly warm and he always had been fantastic at hugs. "Yeah, well, we better fucking see you soon too, yeah? No dying on us."

Wrapping her arms firmly around her dear friend, Byleth nodded into his chest. "I'll do my best, Balthus. That much I swear to you."

No sooner than had Balthus released her did Constance rush to take his place. Her hug was brief and stiff, but no less heartfelt. "Fear not. The brilliant Constance von Nuvelle will not rest until she has rescued you from this tragic fate. Of that you have my word."

The only one left was Hapi, who still had a vicious scowl on her face. Byleth told herself that she wouldn't be mad if Hapi left without so much as word, the same way that Yuri did. Logically, Byleth had known that her choice would likely feel like a betrayal the the Wolves. Of course it would. How much had they sacrificed for her sake, just for her to essentially throw it all away? Emotionally, she would be devastated. These four were her family. She loved them so much it hurt. And it wasn't as if she was doing this specifically to hurt them. 

Closing her eyes tightly, Byleth whispered, "I'm sorry, Hapi. Really. I hope that one day, you'll forgive me." When she got no response, she figured that she wasn't going to get one. Byleth turned to join the Golden Deer in their caravan, but took only a single step in that direction before she was tackled from behind. Hapi's grip was the tightest of the three, squeezing her shoulders, one of which was still sore from Claude's arrow. No matter how uncomfortable the embrace was, it made Byleth smile. 

"If you die to a creepy witch like Rhea, I will learn necromancy, resurrect you from the dead and kill you again. A minimum of twice. Understood?"

Running a thumb along Hapi's arm, Byleth nodded. "I hear you loud and clear, Hapi."

And just like that, the woman was gone, stomping off towards the others sullenly. Byleth stood and watched them sit astride their mounts, eyes following them until they were nothing but blurs of color on the horizon. There was little Byleth wanted more than to be riding off with them. Just one more night eating and laughing under the stars. Listening to Hapi's outrageous and hilarious tales. Playing cards with Balthus and Yuri. Serving as a test dummy for Constance's strange but mostly harmless spells. Sleeping curled up in Yuri's arms, certain that no matter what the next day hit them with, they would prevail.

"Teach."

Byleth turned to face Claude, whose exhaustion was obviously starting to catch up to him. She hoped that he had the good sense to travel in the wagon with the others instead of fly, but that would be asking far too much. "Time to head out?"

The boy swallowed, not fully meeting her eyes. "Yeah."

She spared one last look in the direction the Wolves had wandered off in, wishing them safe travels and good fortune, then followed Claude back to the caravan without a word. Byleth rode in the wagon along with Ignatz, Lysithea, Raphael, and Marianne. Lorenz and Leonie were pulling it along behind their horses. Claude, despite his exhaustion, tore through the sky ahead of them, on the lookout for any danger. It was a bizarre situation. Only half a year ago, a journey like this would have felt common place. She would have been content to sit among their number, listening to their excited rambling. Now, they were all solemn, and unnaturally quiet. The weight of what awaited them at journey's end and Hilda's absence were almost suffocating. 

Only once did anyone speak. It was Lysithea, quietly calling out to Raphael. "Raph? Are you...alright?"

Raph seemed confused by the question. "Uh, yeah Lys. I'm good. Mari healed me up, remember?" When Lysithea didn't immediately reply, he hedged, "Are _you_ ok?"

The pale haired girl buried her head against her knees, curled tightly to her chest. "It's nothing. I just...I can't escape the feeling that I had injured you somehow."

Byleth blinked. Lysithea was inordinately accurate with her spell casing. The very idea that she had missed and hit Raphael was alarming, as well as a bit far-fetched. Yet, what Lysithea was describing sounded a lot like how her own mind made sense of the memories she had from each Divine Pulse. How odd. Something Claude said back in the forest came back to her then.

_You could have dodged that._

At the time, she had assumed he was extrapolating that from her skill level. Typically, under any other conditions, yes, Byleth could have dodged that arrow. That interpretation made the most sense logically, but what if...?

"Well, I mean, I guess that was what the plan was, but it never came to that. That King of Grappling dude got me real good before I could grab him. Man, that guy has some impressive muscles. If we ever meet again, I'mma have to ask him what his workout routine is!"

Hmm. Raphael didn't seem to share that experience. Perhaps she was wrong. Still, the chance that she wasn't nagged at her for the rest of the trip. The Divine Pulse she had used back then had felt unusually powerful. Powerful enough for others to notice it? Was such a thing even possible?

And if it was...what did that mean for her?

* * *

One tended to hear quite interesting things when you knew where to listen and to whom. This tavern was technically on House Rowe's turf. On the outskirts enough that he wasn't really at risk of being recognized by anyone. Still close enough that he could scope out a good place to sit before his drink was ready. Yuri had grown up eavesdropping and people watching. Knowledge was power as far as he was concerned. The catch was that some gossip wasn't sourced well. A novice would always struggle to find good open sources of reliable dirt.

Yuri was no novice.

Only two sips into his spiced ale and he had a bite. "I jus' dun undastand it, mate. Wussa man like da Count care for that bloody brat? 'E suddenly up and wanna take back the throne? An for wot? Ta go shovin' 'is lance up the Church's arse? Fuckin' unbelievable."

"Stuff up, would ya? They don't take too kindly ta folk who speak against the Count in these parts. Don't like it? Get yer ass over Baron Dominic's. The man's backin' the Church cuz Lady Rhea promised she'd leave his lands be. Real protective of his people, that one."

It seemed Claude's information was accurate at least. Dimitri truly had made a campaign for the crown. Before his 18th birthday as well. Considering that the current Regent was his uncle, infamous for having biggoted views and letting the nobles get away with anything, this was sure to be a tricky maneuver even without his first act being to declare war on the Church. Houses Gautier and Fraldarius would always side with House Blaiddyd, especially with Dimitri on the throne. It would seem that House Galatea had surprised the new King by siding with the Church. Too much risk if they lost, they said. Likely trusted Dimitri not to punish them as hard as Rhea in the aftermath. Part of Yuri wished the new King would flex his muscles a bit and rip them out at the roots for such a betrayal...but Ingrid was a member of Dimitri's council. That enough would likely earn them mercy.

It hadn't been surprising when what remained of Castle Gaspard had proudly taken up the banner of Holy Kingdom. They had plenty of reason to hate the Church. Rumor had it that Ashe had been representing them at the round-tables. Yuri could just picture how quickly the boy had jumped at the chance to avenge his fallen Father. What had been surprising was this bit of information: House Rowe had historic ties to the Empire, sure, but during all Yuri's time under their roof he had never heard even a peep of hostility towards the Church. Had it been Edelgard's very public and well received rise to power that encouraged them to throw down their gauntlet as well? Or Dimitri's shocking alliance with them?

Either way, he had what he came for. The big barriers to Dimitri's participation in the seize of Garreg Mach would be House Dominic, Galatea and the minor houses surrounding Fhirdiad. Just plowing through them would not be a great look for the new King. While he never specifically told anyone he planned on it, if it was within his power to remove some of those obstacles and still make it to Daphnel in time, he intended to. 

First things first though, he had a date. As it was, he was showing up without flowers or chocolate, which was terribly rude of him. Yuri could probably stop somewhere and get some but he was certain the lovely lady in question would rather him show up faster than potentially get distracted looking for gifts. The joint he was at wasn't exactly fancy. Definitely wasn't befitting a woman of her station. But beggars couldn't be choosers. Arranging a space for her here had been tricky and while it was kinda a dump, he was positive that she had seen worse.

Yuri nodded at the guy guarding the door in greeting, glad to see that the roster of men he had assigned to his particular mission hadn't been swapped around without his say so. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Yuri turned the handle and entered the makeshift apartment in one fluid step. When he heard the click of the lock behind him, he ventured further into the space. The familiar smell hit him first. Lavender and something citrus. She had always joked that those smells fit who she was very well: calm most times but also a bit sour if in the right mood for it.

When he finally spotted her, she was sitting in front of a mirror, brushing through her long platinum blond hair and singing softly to herself. How many times had he come back from sneaking around town to find her in this exact position? Even the song was one he recognized. When she came around to the chorus again, he joined her in song, smiling around the melody as she jumped in her seat, swirling around to look at him. When those warm brown eyes focused on him, Yuri found himself feeling almost shy. For most of his life, she was the only person that could demure him this way.

Now, she was one of two.

Slowly, she stood, watching him in a mix of awe and disbelief. "Luka? Darling, is that really you?"

Most people, when looking at the two of them side by side, would deny the possibility that they could be related. Truly, even Yuri had found himself doubting it sometimes. He had done his fair share of belly aching over it. Shared his fears and insecurities with her, curled up against her chest late at night. She never sought to provide him evidence one way or the other. What she did provide him was her seemingly bottomless generosity and affection as well as teaching him anything and everything his little mind wanted to know. She knew what it was to be curious. The woman before him was sly, confident, kind, street smart, and just a tiny bit ruthless when the situation called for it. She was a dreamer trapped in a realist's body. She was acquainted with desperation, hunger, anger, and greed, but she had always found that believing that others were genuinely good serviced her better. For 20 years of his life, she was the only person whose love for him didn't come with a price tag.

Even if he one day got confirmation that her blood didn't flow through his veins, Claire was still his mother.

"Hi Mama. I'm back."

The smile he adored so much lit up her face as she hurried to throw herself into his arms. His mother wasn't the tallest woman he'd ever met. Actually, she was quite short, the top of her head barely brushing his shoulder. She argued that she didn't need to be tall with a bean pole for a son. Since he was a self proclaimed Mama's boy and didn't mind doing even the most mundane chores if it would please her, Yuri supposed that wasn't inaccurate. 

Pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, Claire grinned. "Welcome back, my love. Oh how I've missed you. Come, let's go sit on the sofa. I want to hear everything I've missed. Every single thing."

And he was not one to deny her anything, so he told her. He told her everything he could never write in his letters and more. The end of his time in House Rowe. How Rhea had reached out for his assistance spying on Aelfric only months before the man in question started blackmailing him. What the bastard's goals were and how they involved Balthus, Constance and Hapi. He told her about Abyss, what it looked like, what it smelled like, how vast it was. Then about how one day, some students from the Officer's Academy wandered down into Abyss on a whim, accompanied by their professor.

"A pretty professor, was she?" his mother teased before he had even gotten around to describing their fast track to friendship. Which was both impressive and annoying because how on earth did she do that?

When he got to the part concerning Sitri and the Rite of Rising, Claire's expression became stormy. It wasn't surprising. She had known plenty of men who became obsessed with undeserving girls. She herself was often the target of such unsightly desires. If anyone could sympathize with the unsettling horror of watching some creep obsess over someone you loved, it was his mom. Despite how atypical it was to hear that a man had turned into a beast the size of a small house, Claire didn't bat an eye at that part of the story. Such a strange bird, his Mama.

Unsurprisingly, his budding romance with Byleth was her favorite part. It was horridly embarrassing but at the same time, that sparkle in her eye eased his discomfort. She cooed when he described the feast in Trolde, dancing with Byleth and playing with the kids. Hearing about his panic when Byleth almost died made her tear up (which almost made him cry too, damn her). Their confession and first time (with the details glossed over no matter how much she bugged him about it) was still so fresh for him that talking about it still made that warm, fuzzy feeling build in his chest. The last part he was willing to say aloud was their last night together, him telling her his true name and their disjointed proposal. If his mother was surprised that he had worked up the courage to share that secret with her, she didn't show it. There was only one thing on her mind after all of that 

"And where is she now, my dove?"

His silence was telling.

One of her hands found his in the dimly lit room, squeezing it reassuringly. "I see. Then I suppose you're off to battle again."

Yuri appreciated how that observation seemed to lack judgement. He knew she didn't like that he so often put his life on the line. He was her baby, of course she wouldn't send him off enthusiastically into death's cold arms. But she never tried to dissuade him. That meant more to him than he would ever be able to express. "Yes. One that will change things drastically whether we win or lose. I've made contingency plans for you of course, I'll write them-"

"Darling."

Yuri turned his head to meet her eyes, lips feeling a bit too dry. "Yes?"

"You're frightened." Yuri's first instinct was to argue, but she countered that urge before he even opened his mouth. "No use denying it, love, it's written all over your face. It's been quite some time since I've seen you so desperate to hold onto something. Since you were a small child in fact." Yuri averted his eyes, a feeble attempt at hiding from her. Claire placed a comforting hand on his face and tipped his chin not back to look at her, but up. "There now. Proud as a peacock, smart as a raven. That's my boy. Don't you worry about me. You have more pressing matters to attend to."

Worrying about her meant he could focus on being productive and not succumb to his rising anxiety long enough to address those pressing matters, he wanted to point out. That argument wouldn't be well received though. It wouldn't be the first time he attempted to use his love and concern for her to explain away his workaholic tendencies. She did not take kindly to that.

Switching moods as quick as a whip, his mother hopped to her feet, hands on her hips. "Now! I shan't have you marching off to battle in those old rags. Go on. Sit at my workbench. We'll get you sorted."

"Mama," Yuri chuckled fondly, complying with her wish despite how ridiculous he found it. "I very much doubt any amount of charm I can brandish will change the tide of this battle."

"Nonsense. Besides, this form doesn't suit you anymore." She returned carrying a rag and a pair of scissors. "The least you can let your poor mother do is help you sculpt your new one."

Yuri glanced at himself in the mirror. Until now, Yuri had assumed that this face, Yuri Leclerc, still fit just fine. After all, he adopted this visage in the hopes that it would be adaptable. Noble's son, Archbishop's spy, underground lord, harmless passerby, and even at some point a callous assassin. Even while playing the role of Yuri, he found himself changing masks day by day. This phase of his life, where he marching into a war for the betterment of Fódlan to find his beloved and defeat a twisted dragonic saint...this was a bit outside of Yuri's realm of expertise, he'd admit. Much more befitting a hero in one of those fairy tales Ashe loved so much.

Did he dare try and mold himself into that shape?

Warm hands rested on his shoulders, his mother smiling at him in the mirror. Swallowing dryly, Yuri leaned back into her and admitted, "I'm at a loss. No character I picture in my head works for this."

Claire pressed a kiss against the crown of his head with a proud grin. "Then we shall simply do without one."

"What?"

His mother pulled his head back and poured a pitcher of lukewarm water carefully through his hair, combing it as she went. "Any actor worth his salt can identify when a persona isn't fitting of a scene. The greatest sin in shape shifting is relying too much on a mask. Sometimes the best thing we can do for the performance is be ourselves. It's not as though the audience can tell the difference, right?" Yuri's mouth fell open in shock. Giggling, Claire held the wet tresses back from Yuri's face, chin resting on his shoulder. "You tell me, then. Who is rushing so valiantly forward to protect his lover? What name do you take when you're with her?"

"Luka," he realized, mouth quirking up into a small, private smile. "I'm the one going to get her." That name, his true name, was a secret breathed into the private spaces he shared with Byleth. It had been so long since he had acted without an alias, he had almost forgotten what it felt like. But maybe that wasn't true. In the sealed forest, in that transient time in Trolde, wrapped up in each other with naught but their bliss between them...he wasn't Yuri then. He was Luka, just himself. No motives. No goal. No mask. Yuri Leclerc had no business playing the story book hero. But the boy who helped his mom bring a weary traveler back from the brink of death, who was saved by that man and desperately wanted to pay that good will forward...maybe he could fit that bill better.

And if he was going back to his roots, then he needed a look that reflected that. "Mom."

Grinning, Claire combed back his hair, grabbing some hair clips from the pouch at her side. "Already way ahead of you, dear heart."

Yuri lost himself to thought, indulging in the pleasant sensations of his mother's nails parting his hair, cutting some away, fluffing up the remainder. The first few cuts were ambitious, strands the length of his whole hand falling to the floor in heaps. It confirmed in his mind what style she was aiming for. When he was very young, he had a fascination with the more feminine side of fashion. He enjoyed playing with color pallets that would bring out his eyes, make them look bigger, emphasize his cheekbones, give his lips a faint shimmer in the right light. Growing out his hair had always been a point of contention though. On the one hand, his mother's hair was flowing and gorgeous. On the other, some of the boys in their neighborhood, like Jev, the baker's son, would tug and rip at it if Yuri gave them any room to work with. 

Smiling to himself, Yuri recalled sitting in his mama's lap for hours, sobbing about how short hair wasn't cute. _Nonsense_ , his mother had replied. _You just have to give it some volume._ That haircut had seemed like magic back then. Now, he realized it was just a matter of cutting different layers and drying it well. But in his youth, it had been the only way he would accept having hair shorter than shoulder length. Yuri had kept his hair rather long for a man for around ten years now. It contributed to the androgynous appearance he had become so fond of. He had grown used to that length, but he found that the more violet locks that piled up on the floor, the lighter Yuri felt. Both symbolically and literally.

"There," Claire declared, brushing out his bangs, which were tapered to curl along the length of his cheekbones. "What do you think, darling?"

Turning in his chair to plant a wet kiss on his mom's cheek, Yuri grinned at her. "It's perfect." Claire blushed at his praise, giggling pleasantly.

The rest went rather quickly after that. His mother had a tunic and cloak sewn together back when he had first become the Savage Mockingbird. The mauve and maroon color combination had sounded lovely, but Yuri had not seen his mother in the flesh in...far too long. And after he joined the Ashen Wolves, the white and grey patterns just made more sense. Now, he was frankly livid with himself for never considering the possibility of high heeled armored boots and matching silver greaves. What a fashion statement.

Almost as inspired as the artistic gaps in the thighs of his tights. Just a small alteration, but enough to lend an otherwise practical outfit a bit of sexuality that Yuri very much appreciated.

Once his eyelids were covered in a magenta shade and his face had been properly accented with rouge, Yuri felt that the transformation was complete. Influences from his time as a lord of the underground, his childhood and his time with the Ashen Wolves were all clearly apparent in his look. "Ok Mama, I'll admit. You've really outdone yourself on this one. A shame to reach my peak level of fashion at only 21 but what can you do, right?"

"Such a flatterer, my sweet boy." Yuri spun around to beam at his mom, about to argue that she had seen nothing in the realm of flattery yet when he noticed her bringing over an old jewelry box. Claire smirked when she met his curious gaze. "Now then, I have one last gift for you. I'll understand if you would rather pick one out yourself, of course. It's nothing sentimental to me, just a pretty little thing I had lying around. But something told me you would like it."

It was a ring. Sterling silver with a well polished sapphire set into the center. The best part was the tiny birds carved into each side. Yuri knew it was just to give them the illusion of flight, but from the image, each bird only looked like they had one wing. Running his fingers appreciatively over the engraving, Yuri whispered, "They're Jians. Just like us."

"What was that, dear?"

Shaking his head, Yuri took the ring from the box and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Nothing, Mama. I...couldn't have found a better fit myself. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, Luka. Just do your mother a favor and bring that girl to meet me when you next come visit."

"I will. I promise."

Despite how much of a welcomed relief it was to spend a day in his mom's company again after so long, Yuri was anxious to get moving again. He stayed the night with her, just long enough to make arrangements for her to be moved to a small fishing village in the Empire. Even if the conflict did escalate, it would take awhile for it to spread all the way out there. One of his men reported that the troops he had appealed for were ready to move out anytime as well. He wrote a note to old Gwendal, hoping their previous good relationship was enough reason for the man to trust him. Yuri told Gray Lion that he was sending some support his way. Goddess knew those aligned with the newly appointed and very controversial King were going to need it. 

The next morning found him on the road to Daphnel territory. A future where he would reunite with his mother again at all, let alone with Byleth beside him, seemed so far away now. But he had to hope. He was going to fight for and crawl his way towards that goal.

Like it or not, this would all be over soon enough.

* * *

Though he did not indicate this to the group verbally, their trip to the monastery had one major stop along the way. Claude wasn't entirely sure what happened in Remire village, but it was enough to light a fire under Dimitri's ass. And Edelgard's as well. When he received the new Emperor's letter, shortly before arriving at Gronder Field, his first inclination was that it was a joke. Just a cute attempt by her and Dimitri to cheer him up before the most difficult battle of his life. Sadly, Edelgard wasn't the type to kid around, especially not about something like this.

Edelgard and Dimitri had returned home in hopes of claiming the thrones of the Empire and Holy Kingdom. In the midst of such risky plays, there was no guarantee that either of them would be able to sneak away long enough for a round-table in person. Undoubtedly, the new emperor and king making an appearance and assuring the people of the Alliance that contributing to this war would not spell destruction in the aftermath would make his job once he reached home again even easier. Without it, Claude wasn't entirely sure how they would manage to convince some of the more testy lords to defect. The greater concern wasn't just having the Alliance as allies, but avoiding their presence on Rhea's side of the field as well.

And well, all of that was rather contingent on him successfully liberating Hilda.

Since the details were so hazy at the time when she wrote the letter, Edelgard arranged for a member of the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions to each wait for the Deer to return from their mission at a nearby trading post. They'd update Claude on the situation in each of his neighboring countries and figure out where best to send the rest of the Golden Deer. Claude would have to present Teach to Rhea himself. There was no getting around that if he ever wanted to see Hilda again. Dragging the others into her reach would be disadvantageous though.

And thus, Claude signaled for the caravan to pause next to a pair of horses tied to a tree. Mercedes waved pleasantly to him as he dismounted his wyvern. Caspar was sitting in the grass by her feet, looking uncharacteristically demure.

"Mercie!" Leonie greeted, practically leaping off her horse to hug the girl. "It feels like it's been forever. How have you been?"

"Hello, Leonie! It's lovely to see you as well." Mercedes was definitely the big sister type. Back when they were preparing for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, she had slacked a bit on her training, much to Dimitri's disappointment, but had made up for it by being emotional support for all three houses. Any of their number were equally likely to go to her for fresh baked sweets, good advice or just a warm hug. It was cute, truly. Even the more reserved students like Ignatz spent a good few moments in her arms and exchanging pleasantries.

"Do tell, Mercedes, are the rest of the Blue Lions back at the monastery yet?" Lorenz asked, still a bit awkward around the girl after that one time she flayed him alive over his snobby noble act.

The blond shook her head, expression a bit sad. "No. Well, not anymore. We did go back for a time, but we returned to our homes shortly after."

The distinction there was interesting. "Back home to Faerghus? Did Dimitri call you guys back?"

"No. It wasn't so much that we were needed back in Faerghus per se. It was more that we were...advised to leave the monastery."

"Did something happen?" Lysithea questioned anxiously. Everyone in the Golden Deer House shared her unease. Hilda was already in a rough spot. The idea of any more of their classmates suffering too was...a lot to deal with.

Mercedes looked hesitant to answer. "Well, we don't exactly have proof but..."

"Yes. We do." Caspar grumbled, still hugging his knees against his chest. 

"What happened?" The question came from Teach, who had walked over to join them. Her presence obviously came as a shock to Mercedes and Caspar. Not a bad one though. They actually looked happy to see her. Sweet as it was, that type of attachment was also dangerous. Byleth Eisner was meant to be his prisoner. His ticket to getting Hilda back. Part of Claude wondered if he should have bound her wrists, had even attached the shackles to his belt, but that was just him being overly cautious. She had agreed to come with them of her own free will, after all.

Turned out that Teach's appearance was all it took to get Caspar to talk. "Professor," he greeted, eyes filling up with tears almost immediately. Byleth sat down beside him, fixing him with that patented _I'm listening, feel free to tell me anything_ stare. "I...when we got back from Remire, Linhardt was really upset about something. He wouldn't really tell me much, but he said he was going digging. I figured that was pretty typical for Lin, so I let him be. But then no one saw him for like two full days and all the suddenly freaking Seteth was telling us we needed to leave and go back home. That the monastery wasn't safe for us anymore. And I just don't know why he would say that unless something happened! B-but Lin hadn't come back yet and...we just left. We left without him. He...he's my best friend and I _left_ him there!"

Teach's eyes widened, trying to parse through what she had been told while also supporting Caspar as he broke down. He wasn't the only one. Mercedes and Marianne both had hands cupped over their mouths. Lorenz had turned away from the group to "tend to the horses". Leonie and Ignatz were shell shocked. Lysithea just looked mad. Raphael sat down on the other side of Caspar, placing a comforting hand on his trembling shoulders. Shit. That was a lot to chew on. On the one hand, Linhardt very well may have been dead. On the other, the possibility that Seteth was sympathetic to their cause was a thread he couldn't resist pulling at.

"Linhardt's a smart guy, Caspar. I'm sure he just got caught and locked up somewhere. If that's the case, well, Seteth obviously knows and probably wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. We'll find a way to help him, just like we're helping Hilda." Claude knew his words were empty. His first and only priority in all of this madness was getting Hilda out of there. No matter how nice the thought of looking out for everyone all at once was, there was only so much that Claude felt he could manage to accomplish in what he hoped would be a very short visit back to the monastery.

He wasn't about to tell Caspar that though.

"Speaking of Seteth," he continued, "have you guys heard anything about him or Flayn? At all? I feel like they kinda disappeared from public view after we got Flayn back from the Death Knight."

Mercedes answered in Caspar's stead. "There was a rumor going around that Seteth and Lady Rhea got into a rather heated argument. One of the Knights said they could hear them shouting from the reception hall. I think the first time I heard it was the day we were packing up to leave though."

Curious. That unfortunately added a lot of evidence to the theory that Linhardt had been injured somehow. Or worse. If Seteth didn't snap at Rhea for torturing him and Hilda, what exactly was worthy of such a strong response? Claude almost didn't want to know. 

Other than that disturbing bit of news, the rest of their plan was surprisingly going pretty well. Edelgard's crowning was unopposed in the Empire and her army was already prepared to march. She and Hubert would likely be joining them personally at Judith's the first week of the Ethereal Moon. Dimitri had had a bit of a rougher time of it. Got a lot of heat from some of the more conservative houses. It did surprise Claude to hear that his strongest supporter through all of this seemed to be Felix. Despite whatever bad blood used to exist between them, the moment that crown touched Dimitri's head, Felix, having taken the title of Duke Fraldarius from his very shocked father, was at his side, bulling House Gautier into getting their shit together and taking their eyes away from Sreng long enough to defend their homeland. Dedue, Sylvain and Ingrid were also rarely seen away from their king's side these days. It was unclear whether Dimitri would feel comfortable joining them in House Daphnel's villa, but since Baron Dominic's forces mysterious started thinning out, it was looking more likely.

Content with their progress, Claude gave the orders for the others to head over the Judith's. He didn't share this with the others, but after he got Hilda back their first move would be sending a pretty desperately worded letter to Holst. Nadar had guaranteed him at least a full company of Almyran wyvern knights. So long as he could get them across the throat, they would be an extremely valuable trump card.

When it was finally time to get moving again, Claude was relieved when Byleth joined him near Petunia by herself. Though he was sure the implications of what he was about to do did not escape Mercedes or Caspar, beyond the lengthy embraces they shared with their old professor, neither tried to stop him. Before his teacher mounted his wyvern, Claude's eyes landed on the Sword of the Creator, still very much in her possession.

"Hey, Teach. In the interest of making this look believable, you think I could hold onto your sword? Just until we meet with Rhea."

In general, Byleth had always been a mild mannered person. Even in the midst of a difficult battle, she didn't tend to let her anger or frustration show. The glare she shot him at that request was downright livid. It wasn't hard for him to get defensive. No real prisoner would still have their weapon. Then again, was she really his captive if she was walking into this prison of her own free will?

The sword was thrust roughly against his chest before he could decide whether to backtrack or stand his ground on the matter. "Doubt she'll let you cut a mountain in half with it, but you've always been more interesting in this damn thing than I was. So enjoy it while it lasts," Byleth spat, not meeting his eye.

That rubbed him all sorts of wrong ways. Claude could admit that the way he so obviously fixated on the sword and asked after borrowing it wasn't exactly subtle. Having a Relic of that caliber on his side would simplify, well, all of his goals. Was he supposed to feel bad about having ambitions? Needing power to see those dreams realized? Even if he did go through the trouble of explaining his hopes for the future to her, there was no way she could understand, not really. 

They were about halfway into their flight before he realized that maybe that wasn't exactly true. Having no safe place to call home? Being hunted and despised by people for no particular reason? Feeling powerless over one's lot in life? Byleth may not face those issues due to her race, but she did understand. In her own way. 

When they landed, Claude offered her a hand to help her down. A symbol that he had cooled off and was no longer mad. Byleth didn't take it, sliding off Petunia on her own. That was...fair. Expecting anyone to be a paragon of emotional maturity when tangoing with the idea of death was a bit unrealistic. Claude really didn't want this to be the last impression either of them had of the other, but it wasn't as if he had the time to discuss it. To fix it. Thus, he merely took her arm and started their long, solemn walk.

The atmosphere inside the monastery was unsettling. How many moons have passed with these halls being eerily empty? The Knights Hall vacant of all its usual occupants, the nuns and faculty so overworked and understaffed that they seldom wandered the grounds. Only the students had occupied the mess hall and classrooms, fear and uncertainty hanging over their heads like a headsman's ax. Now, the reception hall was packed with armed guards, soldiers and the full force of the Knights of Seiros. The void had been replaced by three fold the number of occupants, such a drastic shift in so little time was a shock.

It also meant that Rhea was preparing her own campaign to counter their assault. With so many men already gathered and only more on the way from the fragments of the three armies that chose not to ally themselves with their goals, Claude did not particularly care for these odds. 

Worse than all of that was how the rancorously loud reception hall fell to complete, numbing silence once Claude led Byleth in. It was as if the entire room was holding their breath. In some ways that did not surprise him. With the orders that they had been receiving for the past few moons, no one would dare claim to not know who Byleth Eisner was, or that she was the source of all of this upheaval and confusion. As Claude escorted Byleth through the line of tables, many of the gathered soldiers removed their helmets, bowing their heads at the woman as she passed. It made Claude's stomach turn. They knew. They knew what awaited her up those stairs. No matter how clever Yuri was, no matter how good their plans and schemes were after this point, this would very possibly be the last time the public saw Byleth Eisner alive.

Claude's legs felt unsteady under him the closer they drew to the end of the hall. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to trade this woman's life for Hilda's like some sort of bargaining chip? The other Deer were surely almost back in Alliance territory by now. They would be safe. Safe-ish. Maybe...

"Steel yourself, Claude," Byleth admonished quietly, her pace not slowing. 

Raising his chin defiantly, Claude bit out, "You're not my professor anymore. You don't get to criticize me for being human."

"Be that as it may, I can still give you advice, can I not?" She did not look at him, too intent on keeping her face expressionless in front of their audience. "Stay the course, even when you falter. And don't you dare think of me. Save your compassion for the others."

The staircase was thin so he led her along just in front of him, keeping his hand tightly on her arm all the while. The weight of the Sword of the Creator on his hip burned at him. "Spoken like a true leader," he remarked, voice hollow. As they finally reached the doors to the audience chamber and the guards entered to announce their arrival to the Archbishop, Claude offered one final olive branch. "No one would scorn you for being scared, you know."

Byleth smirked a bit in response, "Don't pity me, Claude. I'm not afraid. I may not have lived a long life, but I have lived." Both of the doors to the audience chamber were pulled open with flourish, the sunlight through the stained glass windows painting the ground and them in brilliant color. There, standing at attention with a frustratingly pleased expression on her face was Rhea herself. Any sign of hesitation or fear here could cost him his chance at saving Hilda. He knew that. That knowledge did not clear the lead from his limbs, nor the tremble from his lips. Lowering her voice to a whisper, Byleth offered him one final thought, "And don't count me out yet. You aren't the only one with schemes in play."

The thought reassured him far more than he would like to admit. Schooling his expression into cold disinterest, Claude finally managed to push himself into motion, mechanically marching the two of them to an appropriate distance from the throne and dropping into a low bow. "Lady Rhea, I have done as you asked. I present you Byleth Eisner, unharmed and unarmed, as promised."

His words passed through her like she was made of cloth. The woman abandoned all sense of decorum, rushing forward to wrap Byleth in a tight embrace. "Oh, my dear sweet child. I have missed you so." She was not graced with the courtesy of a reply, Byleth staring blankly over her shoulder in perfect silence. Rhea carried on as if they was no bother, cupping her cheeks in cold hands. "You gave me quite the fright. I was beside myself with worry. Oh, whatever would I have done if something awful had befallen you?"

Such a fake display of concern was sickening. Clearing his throat pointedly, Claude smiled as respectfully as he could. "I am glad that you are pleased, Lady Rhea. I will gladly be out of your hair shortly. There is, of course, just one more matter I'd like to discuss."

Not bothering to look at him, still directing that creepily giddy grin at Byleth, Rhea waved him off. "Yes, I remember. Catherine, bring our guest out here please."

When that familiar head of pink hair appeared from the office to their left, Claude had to restrain himself from launching himself towards her. Catherine led her the same way he had Byleth, a stern hand on her arm, but otherwise unrestrained. When they were close enough, that guiding limb was removed, Catherine nodding at Hilda with what appeared to be a genuine smile. The girl wasted not time hurrying over to Claude and wrapping him up in her arms. Relief crashed through him like a wave. She was alive. No missing limbs, no gaping wounds, no grave deformities. Gods there were so many ugly possibilities that he had forced himself to prepare for. Knowing that all that fear had been for naught was simultaneously aggravating and splendid.

"Didn't doubt you for a second, Claude," Hilda whispered in his ear, squeezing him so hard it knocked the breath out of him.

Pressing his lips happily against her temple, he returned the gesture. "Sorry I took so long."

When they pulled away from each other, Claude gave her another once over, obsessively looking for anything out of place. She had definitely lost weight. Was probably very sleep deprived. No other physical ailments were apparent though. That didn't mean there never were any. As was the case with him, they were likely just healed to make her presentable. It wasn't until her left hand clenched itself around his that he remembered.

Turning their joined hands over slowly, Claude glanced down to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, there was an empty space where her ring finger once was. His eyes glared into Rhea's form, rage mounting in him with each breath. That monster. The ring still resting in his pocket hadn't even been on her left hand. Rhea had moved it to her left ring finger, knowing the importance and symbolism of the digit, and removed the whole thing by force. Then wrapped the still bloody ring up and gave it to him as a motivator. No, Hilda was not missing a leg, or an arm, but she may as well be. A young, unmarried woman losing her ring finger was social suicide. Perhaps Hilda's life had been spared, but her chance to reintegrating herself into society and marrying in a manner befitting her station as Duke Goneril's daughter was shattered into tiny pieces. 

Hilda's hands tightened around his, her desperate glance a plea for him to not make the situation any worse. Biting his lip so hard it bled, Claude managed to reign himself in. "Thank you, Lady Rhea, for returning Hilda to me. We will be going now."

Still deeply engrossed in her evaluation of Byleth, Rhea stopped him. "Hold, Claude. You have one more thing belonging to me."

Ah. Of course she would notice that. Gesturing Hilda towards the door, Claude unbuckled the Sword of the Creator from his belt and handed it off to Rhea, who hugged it to her chest. Byleth did not glance in his direction, still focusing her gaze intently at the wall behind the Archbishop. Sighing a bit through his nose, Claude turned once more to leave.

"Safe travels, you two. I have heard that there are all sorts of wild, unruly animals out and about on the roads as of late. Eagles and Lions attacking whatever they feel threatens them. Fear not though. Any of those beasts who dare to bear their fangs at the Church will be slaughtered." Claude did not have to look back at her to know that Rhea was wearing that serene, empty smile. "That includes any Deer foolish enough to play at being a predator. Are we understood?"

"Yes, Lady Rhea. Good day."

"Good day, Claude, Hilda."

Once the door had closed behind them, Rhea once again directed her gaze to her prize. Much the same way Claude had done with Hilda, Rhea inspected Byleth, trying to categorize the changes that had developed in their time apart. To her immense satisfaction, Byleth seemed healthy. A bit dirty from the road perhaps, but her body seemed to still be in good condition. Good.

"I really am glad you are whole and well, my Child." She assured the girl, tucking some of Byleth's hair behind her ear.

Byleth's eyes were really a gorgeous color. So unique. So lovely. It was a shame to see them so cold, especially when that frigid glare was directed at Rhea of all people. Ah, she missed the days not so long ago when these lovely eyes held on curiosity and pride in herself and her students. What she wouldn't give to return to that time.

"I'm not your child," the girl asserted, body still stiff and unwelcoming of Rhea's affection. "My mother may be gone from this world but that does not grant you the right to attempt to replace her."

Still sore over that point then. "Don't be childish, Byleth," Rhea scolded, tightening her grip on the girl. "Without my intervention, we would have lost both you and your mother that day. Like it or not, dear, you would not draw breath without me."

Byleth turned her head away, not granting Rhea the privilege of meeting her eyes. "You say that as if you did that for my sake. Generosity and ulterior motives cannot co-exist. Besides, we both know it wasn't me you were hoping to revive, Lady Seiros."

Arching one eyebrow, Rhea surmised, "I see you've come across some secrets while you were out playing with your friends." Byleth did not dignify her with a response. Rhea released the girl and turned to glance up at the mural on the wall. Etched into the stained glass was an image of Sothis, the Creator and Goddess eternal. How many times had Rhea gazed longingly at this image? Too many. Far too many. "It's no matter. Perhaps it will be easier this way. You are correct, Child. I am Saint Seiros herself."

Catherine stiffened from her position near the corner of the room. It did not concern her though. Catherine's loyalty had been unmatched by any other human being as long as Seiros had walked this land. Even Seteth and dear Flayn turned out to be...

Shaking her head, Rhea turned to look at her guest once more. Ideally, she would have spent many moons, years even, slowly feeding the young professor information. Making sure she understood, not allowing her to fall into the trap of oversimplifying their tale. What she currently knew likely came from the remnants of those foul Agarthians. Monsters such as them would twist and corrupt the truth, using it to turn Byleth against her. Disappointing as it was, she could not rewrite those opinions easily. So she appealed to the girl's empathy. "You saw how Aelfric mistreated your mother's body, did you not? Saw what horrors became of it due to his greed and weakness. That feeling it inspired in you, so strong and consuming it prompted you to flee from this place, is how I have felt every day since that vile thief stole my mother's remains and turned them into this sword."

Rhea stroked her fingers along the vertebrae of the blade. Getting it back from Nemesis had been such a sweet relief. She still felt that familiar tinge of fury in her chest at the memory of his disgusting hands all over it. "Humans are flawed creatures, Byleth. They cannot help it. Mother never really knew where their obsession with power and violence came from. She never scorned them for it. All she wanted was to guide them. And look how they repaid her kindness. Those common thieves stole her body, desecrated it. Not just her, but also my siblings. Then they had the gal to wield those weapons against us. I had hoped that when those sinners had been purged, the rest of humanity would acknowledge their errors. Try to do better."

Tightening her grip on the Creator Sword, Rhea hissed. "It was simply too much to expect from them. Those ten Elites had passed on their bloodlines by then. Had children of their own, with the power of my family flowing through their veins. They were convinced that their ancestors were brave heroes. That the Crests they bore and the Relics were their birthright. Power they were owed somehow through the simple act of being born. It was repugnant, utterly ridiculous. I could have corrected them. Shown then that individual power was nothing compared to the blessings of the Goddess's influence. But instead, I left them to suffer under their foolish notions. So long as they appropriately attributed the Relics and their Crests to the Goddess, to the Church, then they were free to believe whatever their poor, weak hearts desired."

"That isn't guiding them," Byleth asserted, hands clenched into fists at her side. "If you truly loved humanity as Sothis did, you would have put aside your petty grudge to help them understand their abilities. Then let them decide what they would do with it. Pretending to care for them but then doing everything in your power to make sure that they cannot succeed is not being kind, it is being controlling."

Rhea scoffed, eyes narrowing at the girl before them. "When humans are given the choice of what to do with their power they use it to pillage villages, rape women, steal from one another. They take life indiscriminately without caring who it is that they harm in the process. They are savages, animals. If you really expect that we could leave them be without consequence then you are far more naive than I thought you were."

Shaking her head, Byleth seethed in response. "Can you really say that you are any better? How many lives did you sacrifice to bring me back here? How many people did you threaten, blackmail, and experiment on to have a chance at bringing a dead person back to life? You are utterly unable to criticize Aelfric or call him corrupt. You both turned yourselves into monstrosities attempting to return to a time long passed. Neither of you adjusted well to your losses. And while I do understand what it is to miss someone dearly, I cannot imagine that either my mother nor Sothis would approve of your actions."

Then that was that. Rhea had tried. No one would be able to take that away from her. She offered the foolish girl a chance to redeem herself. She had overlooked much until this point. Her obvious involvement with the pointless plans set in motion by the three Lords. The blatant disrespect she had displayed since arriving here. There were some slights Rhea would never tolerate though. Anyone who dared to tarnish the relationship she had with her mother was beyond saving.

"A shame, Byleth. Truly a shame. I would have made it painless you know. Like falling asleep. Because I loved you, just as I loved your mother and father. But now I see that love was wasted on you. You're just another failure." Looking over at Catherine, Rhea sneered, "Get this creature out of my sight. I will deal with her later. And send a missive to all loyal subjects of the Church of Seiros. This year, we shall honor to forming of Garreg Mach monastery in an even more grand way than ever. We shall bear witness to a new ceremony that will usher in the new age for Fódlan."

* * *

This was far from the first time Jeralt had met Judith von Daphnel but it never hurt to have a reminder of why he had such a good opinion of her.

The woman was undoubtedly among the most skilled swordsmen he had ever met. Her use of a rapier was a bold choice, but one that had yet to do her wrong. It made her enemies make the grave mistake of underestimating her. A lone woman standing in their way carrying a flimsy sword? Not likely to inspire fear. Though she should.

Currently, his favorite thing about her was how well she handled the noxious and aggravating state of the Alliance's political system. Jeralt grew up in Faerghus and the best paying work came from the Empire. He hadn't exactly had much reason to become acquainted with Leicester and their dysfunctional semi-democracy. Now he was sort of wishing he didn't have to. Sadly, he did make a deal with that Riegan kid. He came all the way out here hoping to convince the nobles to rally behind House Riegan and lend their troops to the cause of declaring independence from the Church. Those were the words Judith used, actually. If it were up to Jeralt, he would have said something along the lines of "Rhea's lost her damn mind and we need to give her the ax before it gets worse."

He had a feeling that wouldn't be received well.

In the beginning, this whole revolution had seemed like a pipe dream. The Kingdom had relied on the Church for far too long to rip that power away from their hands now. The Empire would definitely hold to their word but their might wouldn't be enough. The Alliance wasn't well organized enough to decide on taxation rates let alone commit to going to war. And to boot, these large armies being led by teenagers? Not even legal adults yet in some cases? Ha. What a joke. He could admit now that he was pleasantly surprised. They were not the most well oiled machine, but they were coming together more reliably than he imagined.

Leicester was really the last force holding out. It was no surprise that Count Gloucester was loathe to betray the Church. Given how their territory would be the first burnt to the ground if this thing went sideways, Jeralt couldn't really blame him. The real issue is that no houses other than Daphnel and Riegan were planning to support them. The first big change would have to be house Goneril. Holst was beside himself when he heard that Rhea had detained Hilda. If Claude managed to bring her back alive, then Holst at least would pledge his soldiers to their cause. Luckily for them, recent word had told them that Claude and Hilda were on their way.

Their plan for the others Lords was to appeal to their confidence in their chances in the war. One army against the Church would be annihilated. Three though? Those were better odds. Claude had told them to arrange a round-table on the 8th of the Ethereal Moon. Some "guests" were evidently going to endeavor to join them and plead their case. 

Until then, all they could to was send the Golden Deer kids to wear down their parents. Lorenz was a stubborn, bullheaded brat just like his father. Jeralt wasn't sure that he had a snowball's chance in hell of actually convincing his old man but at least he could get him thinking about it. Marianne's meek mannerisms would normally be a hindrance, but ever since she heard that Hilda was alive and well, she had taken up quite the amount of initiative going to talk to her adoptive father on behalf of their forces. Those without ties to noble families were visiting their loved ones or helping secure supplies. Leonie had assured him that Byleth had surrendered with minimal injuries and seemed determined to hold her position until they could get to her.

That, at least, was a huge relief.

She had almost mentioned something else the piqued his interest. He kept it passively in the back of his mind until an opportunity arouse to investigate it further.

Then, Yuri Leclerc arrived in Daphnel.

The rest of the Ashen Wolves had already been there for quite some time. Jeralt had wondered why it had taken Yuri so long in particular but wasn't about to ask. He was skilled in the art of minding his own damn business. Most new arrivals showed up at the Daphnel manner first and were escorted to their base of operations if they were approved by him or Judith. Yuri was the first who not only found their true location on his own but managed to break in. The only reason they knew he was present in the first place was because the rest of his buddies were a bit excitable.

And by that, he meant they started shouting in the common area.

"Damn, Boss!! I am digging the new look. Yer lookin' sexy as hell." Balthus, or as Jeralt thought of him, the loud one was the unsurprisingly the first voice that he heard when coming down the stairs. 

If the oddly familiar and sexually implicated flattery bothered him, Yuri didn't show it. Instead he smiled as gracefully as one could with an armful of big hulking man pressing down on him and said "Thank you, Balthus."

The quiet one whose name didn't match her face actually looked more at ease then he could remember her ever being since she arrived. "Seeing you with short hair is kinda weird, not gonna lie. But it'll grow on me."

"Yuri, honestly. This outfit was so tantalizing close to being appropriate. But the thighs? Really? They make you look like a tart." 

From what he knew about the kid, which admittedly wasn't much, that may not have been so much a criticism as it was a compliment. Constance likely didn't care one way or another. Jeralt got the feeling she was mostly just trying to give her friend a hard time. 

Sadly for her, Yuri was much better at it than she was. "Hey, watch your tongue, Shady Lady. My mom made these clothes for me."

The color near drained out of her face. "What?! I... apologize but, did you alter them then? Surely your mother wouldn't have..."

"Coco, Yuri-bird's mother used to be a sex worker. Pretty sure it was intentional."

Balthus grinned down at Yuri, who was still standing rather contently with the larger man's arm around his shoulder. "Woah, no shit? Mama Leclerc sounds like a freakin' badass."

"That isn't my actual name, you know. Also, you're both right. She did do it on purpose and she is definitely a badass."

While watching this whole thing from halfway down the staircase was a bit more amusing than any of the other work he had been doing so far, Jeralt thought it was about time to get them to quiet down. Giving one clear, sharp whistle, he waited until they spotted him before calling, "As charming as this little reunion is, it's a bit late and I could hear you two floors up. Kindly show our unexpected guest around and then get settled in for bed would you?"

Yuri smirked up at him. "Unexpected? That hurts, Blade Breaker. Is your sad little war party too good for folks like me?"

Kid had a tongue on him. That was fine. So did Jeralt. "If you snooped around town enough to find us, you likely also learned that we have sort of a system set up here. Side stepping that security measure just to flex your sneaking muscles is a weird way to introduce yourself as an ally. Can't really blame me for being a bit cautious can you?"

The gleam in the boy's eye told Jeralt that he appreciated the snark. "Fair enough. I'll properly introduce myself to the esteemed Lady Daphnel myself when she's available. As well as warn her how ridiculously easy it was to break into this place, which tells me quite a lot about how effective your 'security' measures are around here."

Giving the kid a smirk and throwing a wave behind him, Jeralt decided he liked Yuri. He was a cocky little shit, but his allies respected him and he had a good head on his shoulders. Maybe he wouldn't have to kill him and dump the body somewhere after all.

He was kidding. Mostly.

Things really started picking up when Claude returned victoriously with not only Hilda, but also Holst and Marianne in tow. The rest of the Golden Deer, and surprisingly Balthus, had flocked eagerly to the girl, showering her in affection and ensuring she was never short on attention. Jeralt did notice that one of the fingers on the gloves she suddenly wore was suspiciously lax, which was likely why Duke Goneril had caved so easily. A damn shame for the girl, but good for their cause. It was a positive sign when Dimitri, with his retainer Dedue at his side, also happened to appear the day before their round table was scheduled to begin. Now, they were just missing Edelgard. The morning of the round-table, Judith gathered the main force of their army together for a brief.

It turned out that not only were the Wolves an impressive task force, capable of holding off 100 Knight on their own, but they were also a gold mine of information. Namely, that Rhea was actually Saint Seiros in the flesh. And also apparently capable of turning into a giant dragon. They were still wrapping their heads around that when Edelgard and Hubert spontaneously appeared in the room with them. Yuri shot him a look that dared him to bitch at the pair for not using the front door.

"Woah wait a minute, where did you guys just warp here from?" The red haired member of the Wolves, who he now knew was Hapi, exclaimed. 

It was rather hard to get a reaction out of Hubert, but he legitimately looked thrown off by the exuberant question. "Enbarr. We did not have the time to dedicate to tedious travel."

"From Enbarr to Daphnel? What even is that range? I didn't even know the warp spell could be used on yourself. You gotta teach me!"

Hubert shot Edelgard a look, as if asking for an out. The young Empress gave him no ground to stand on. In fact, she threw him to the wolves, so to speak. "Go on, Hubert. Hapi was rather skilled at dark magic if I remember correctly. It would only benefit us for another gifted mage to lend us more maneuverability."

The new head of House Vestra gave his liege the most pained "yes milady" Jeralt had ever heard and led Hapi away from the group. Things went more smoothly after that. 

Edelgard was able to confirm the information the Wolves brought to the table. She also pitched the possibility of fighting demonic beasts on the front lines since it was a tactic that the church was fully capable of enacting. They moved forward to address the big barriers that they would need to overcome in order to all meet at the monastery to begin their assault. Dimitri mentioned that while Baron Dominic's forces had thinned greatly, they had no idea where that development had sprouted from. He feared that it was a ploy to lull them into a false sense of security.

Raising a hand with a lopsided grin, Yuri clarified, "Ah. Yeah. That one was my doing. I pulled some favors and got a couple of criminal organizations to coincidentally migrate into Dominic territory and cause some trouble. They should be nice and occupied when you march your troops through, Your Majesty."

Jeralt couldn't suppress his grin at the dumbfounded look on the new King's face. Clearing his throat, Jeralt addressed the room asking if there were any more issues left to address. Once again, Yuri raised his hand.

"As I'm sure many of you have heard, the deadline that we have in order to get this operation together and have any chance of rescuing Byleth is now the 25th of the Ethereal Moon. My informant tells me that whatever Rhea is planning is meant to be a public ceremony on that day. That being said, I don't want to risk them tightening security on her the day of. I know this is a big ask but I think it would be a smart move to make two changes to our plan. The first would be that we attack on the 23rd. The second request is for us to send a smaller, covert force to sneak into the monastery and retrieve her."

"If Lady Rhea is smart, which she is, she would already be fully prepared by then," Judith pointed out. 

Claude added, "Yeah, she's got the army part already covered. Garreg Mach was packed when I handed Teach over to her. That army is gonna be massive."

"If that's the case then it shouldn't matter when we strike in terms of military strategy," Yuri returned. "My concern is where Byleth's being held. Currently, it's a private prison located under the Cathedral. If we get too close to the deadline that may change. Worst case, Rhea keeps her in her personal chambers guarded by her, Catherine and the inner circle of the Knights. That's a disadvantage I personally would like to avoid."

"And I suppose you're offering up the Ashen Wolves for this mission?" Edelgard surmised. 

"I am."

The group digested that request for a moment. Judith didn't look particularly convinced. Dimitri also appeared to be hung up on the risks. The fact of the matter was that whether the group agreed to this course of action or not, Yuri and the rest of the Wolves would be going. Their primary role at this table was to get Byleth back. And Jeralt could respect that. 

"I agree with Yuri's suggestions," Jeralt proclaimed. "I actually had a similar thought. So on the condition that I get to join them, I support this plan." He could feel the violet haired boy's eyes on him.

Judith's eyes widened. "You, Jeralt? Well. I suppose this is your daughter we are talking about. I still question how well the five of you will fair on your own."

"It won't just be us five. I was recently contacted by someone currently operating from inside of the monastery. We will have backup. No, I won't say who. Just know that they can also run interference to make sure Byleth stays right where she is. Hell, if we are really lucky, we can draw Rhea out of her hiding place before the armies even breech the front gate. So...any objections?"

No one said a word.

With that taken care of there was only the round-table left to actually deal with. For the most part only the nobles, their children, Claude, Dimitri and Edelgard would be helpful in such a circle. The rest of them separated for the day, with plans to expedite preparations as soon as the nobles had been convinced. 

He found Yuri by a large window on the top floor of their base. The boy seemed deep in thought, but smiled at him when he approached.

"Thanks for the support in there."

Jeralt shrugged. "If you hadn't said something, I would have. I know the war is important to the bigger picture, but...that girl is my whole world. I almost lost her before she was even born. I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose her now."

Yuri observed him for awhile, before nodding to himself. "I share your sentiment. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows when we were on the run. We had a couple close calls, but we always made it through. I can't let it end like this." Then, softer, "I won't."

Leonie hadn't really known any of the Ashen Wolves. Beyond them handing the Golden Deer their asses on Gronder Field, she couldn't get a read on them. But, she had said that when she mentioned that Claude wasn't acting quite like himself, Yuri had stalked off immediately to go to Byleth's aid. He was protective of her, that much anyone could see. Yet, Jeralt couldn't help but agree with Leonie's hunch that it wasn't just because they were allies. There was something else at play here. Jeralt knew he hadn't ever been a traditional father to Byleth. Hell, sometimes he wasn't even a good one. But she was still his girl and he would still vet her suitors, even if she'd probably punch him for it later.

"Hey. Listen. I am not really asking for details, but...there anything I should know about you and By?"

Jeralt hadn't exactly been a spring chicken when he met Sitri. And it wasn't like she had a father of her own to appeal to for her hand in marriage. Rhea was the closest thing she had to family and while the Archbishop had certainly been surprised, she had been in no way disapproving. Still, he knew the kind of reputation he had. It wouldn't have surprised him if the thought of asking him for Byleth's hand was a bit much for the kid.

Clearly, this boy had no idea what the word fear meant. That, or maybe he was losing his touch. Yuri barely even hesitated to collect his thoughts. He just came right out with it. "Well, I'm in love with her. And if we live to see a sunrise beyond the 25th of the Ethereal Moon, I plan to marry her. So, I guess that's pretty notable."

Jeralt really had to hand it to him. The sheer audacity of how casually he said it was impressive. He had to admit, the man knew what he wanted. And that was apparently Byleth. So much so that he was risking his neck to save her. He could respect that.

Yeah, Yuri Leclerc could stay.

"Hmm. Well if that's the case, you'll probably want this then." Jeralt dug out the pouch he kept with him at all times. Yuri held out his hand without question, giving Sitri's ring a puzzled look where it lay in his palm. "That's the ring I proposed to Sitri with. Take it with you."

Understanding now, Yuri's expression morphed into a small, warm smile. He hesitated, though. "I'm...honored. Truly. Alas, I've already found a ring I like for By."

"It's not for By to wear. I was planning to give this to her at some point so that she could give it to the person she intended to marry. Guess that's you, kid." Finally having the decency to look a bit affected by this whole thing, Yuri slowly closed his hand protectively around the ring. Smiling to himself, he gave Yuri a firm pat on the back, pleased when it didn't knock the man off his feet. "Do me a favor, though. Give it to her. Let her get it adjusted and present it to you herself. Marriage is a promise that goes both ways. Starting on uneven ground won't do either of you any good."

A moment passed in silence as Yuri considered his words. Then, with a kind grin, Yuri presented the ring back to him. "I agree with you. There's a lot about our relationship we won't be able to do traditionally. Somehow I don't think a huge public ceremony in a puffy dress with all our friends sobbing is her style. At the very least, I want to make sure we do all the stuff that matters. The ring I'm going to give her is from my mother. So, I think you'd better hold onto this yourself."

Oh, this guy could definitely stay. Shaking his head, Jeralt internally admitted defeat. "Alright, kid. You got me." He slipped the ring back into its pouch, directing his gaze at the setting sun outside once more. "Guess that's all a moot point if our little operation goes south."

"It probably will. But we'll figure it out. We always do."

Nodding to himself, Jeralt let him do something he hadn't done in over 20 years. He prayed. For good luck. For strength, not just his, but Byleth's as well. 

_Hang in there, kiddo. We're coming for ya_.

* * *

The cell she was in was freezing. It was likely a side effect of the time of year, the Ethereal Moon was always frigid. Byleth's only comfort was that she was stripped of her own clothing, which was admitted far too impractical for staying warm. The garbs on her body were just a simple shirt and loose pants, but they held her body heat well enough to let her sleep. Were it not for the poison she was being fed with every meal, this whole captivity thing would not be nearly as bad as it was.

Damn, she was getting sick of being poisoned.

 **As much as I dislike to admit i** **t** , Sothis slurred sleepily. **Seiros is clever. The drug disconnects you from your magic, weakens your body. I am unsure whether my magic would help you in this state.**  


Lovely. A necessary precaution on Rhea's part. Byleth would have gladly melted the bars from the walls by now had she any choice in the matter. The Archbishop visited her every morning and evening. As ironic as it was to say, the difference between the two sessions was like night and day. The underground prison had no windows. The sun could not reach this place. Just the constant dripping noise from somewhere down the hall, echoing constantly like a drum. Her best inclination that the first visit was morning was the woman's selection of tea. Crescent-Moon Tea was one of Rhea's favorites and had a rich, airy smell. Ferdinand had imparted upon her once that it was meant to give one energy and thus was best for morning or mid-day blends.

It was drugged, of course. Much like the meager breakfast she was given. Rhea always looked so regal, even sitting on a wooden stool in a dank cell with only torches to illuminate their surroundings. During those visits, she was as Byleth remembered her: motherly and kind. Her words were gentle, a serene smile on her face as she described places and people that she thought Sothis would recall. They were subtle attempts at eliciting Sothis's influence over her. No matter how much she spoke, Sothis could not connect herself to the stories Rhea told. And even if she did, Byleth would never let her know that. So long as Byleth appeared to be listening, that persona of the ideal matron did not vary over the course of her time in the cell.

Night time was a different beast.

Byleth was unsure what triggered it. Long days lacking results? Some unknown source of frustration in the Church? Whatever the cause, the evenings were filled with nothing but pain. That saintly smile was completely absent. The woman stormed into the cell, often grabbing Byleth by the neck or wrist and summoning a fire spell to her finger tips. It was always the first few moments that were the worst. Flames scorched her flesh, melting flesh and sending her nerves into a frenzy. Once those died, however, the trouble was just the heat. Rhea was also a fabulous white mage and could return Byleth's alabaster skin back to its previously state with ease. In that way, she would repeat the process over and over, as often as she needed to until Byleth's vocal cords were too strained to scream. Sometimes she would switch tactics to cutting open Byleth with knifes, dull and jagged. All the same, an hour or two after she appeared, she would rise without a word and leave. Byleth would never be able to prove the abuse. Rhea made sure of that.

 **She is trying to put your body under enough stress that you and I will have no choice but to fuse.** Sothis hypothesized once after Rhea left her shivering and nauseous on the ground. **I know it hurts, dear one, but you must endure it. Just until Yuri and your pups can devise a plan.**

Byleth had managed a weak smile, thinking of how amusing that this was what it took for Sothis to call her beloved by his chosen name.

One day, the monotony of her days was interrupted by a visitor. That was enough to put Byleth on guard. The fact that Byleth did not even vaguely recognize the young woman did not bode well either. She wore the uniform of the Officer's Academy, but Byleth couldn't recall ever seeing her before. There was very little chance Byleth could have forgotten a girl like her, with scarlet red hair done up two elegant, braided buns. For an ordinary student to have made her way down here, unattended, was also too remarkable to be true.

"Hello, Professor," she chirped, far too chipper for such a dark and dull place. "It's your lucky day! I'm here to rescue you."

"Are you now?" Byleth rasped, appraising the woman critically. "I don't believe we've been acquainted."

She was given a brilliant smile, unfazed by the lukewarm reaction. "Oh! You're right. My name is Monica von Ochs. I'm a student in the Black Eagles House. So sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances."

The girl was a good actress in some ways. Assuming the air head personality was legitimate, the way she shifted tones and held her body fit well with that role well. However, for a situation like this, the entire act was a bit too surreal. So much so that Byleth did not just doubt her intentions now, but her entire introduction.

"Ah. I taught the Golden Deer. Must have been why I didn't see you." Byleth had spent enough time with each house to get a feel for the students before selecting the Deer. If this Monica person had existed back then, she would have seen her.

She also seemed to excel at lying with the truth. "Oh no, I'm afraid not. I only returned just recently. Dimi and Claude found me when they came to rescue Flayn."

Rescue Flayn? Byleth schooled her face into tired, disinterest, pondering what exactly had happened to Flayn. The Death Knight had been mentioned earlier, which meant it could be nothing good. It felt like too dangerous a thing to ask Rhea. Byleth sincerely hoped the young girl was alright. Flayn was such a sweet thing. Knowing that she had been potentially injured infuriated her.

"I see. Well as nice as it is to meet you, you shouldn't be here. Lady Rhea would not take kindly to unauthorized visitors."

Monica shook her head with a grin. "Didn't you hear me earlier, silly? I'm here to set you free. Edel knows how good I am at picking locks and sneaking around so she sent me to come get you. She's waiting for us in the Sealed Forest. Don't worry. I know all the best ways out there!"

So many interesting bright red flags in that explanation. The most glaring of which being the nickname "Edel". How quickly would this girl lose her head for that one, she wondered. 

**Personally, I find stealing you away to the woods to be more pressing. Carry on, though.**

True. So, Byleth could at least be sure that her intentions weren't truthful. In that case, which would be the lesser of two evils: go with her or stay? Byleth was still too weak to properly fight back if things went south. But it was still a chance at freedom. It was also a chance to be punished if she was caught, severely.

Well, it wasn't as if her situation could get worse.

**Famous last words.**

"You'd have to help me walk," she admitted.

Her smile was innocent, but those eyes were full of malice. As she worked on the lock, Byleth considered what the chances were that this would be a very big mistake.

She did not need to spend long on such thoughts.

It took her a moment to even notice the figure lurking in the shadows behind Monica. Despite her ill intent, she almost wanted to warn the girl that death personified was standing right behind her. For several chilling moments, Rhea did nothing but watch. It was only when the young woman finally managed to get the lock off the door that she moved.

Monica, or whoever she really was, did not even have the opportunity to scream. Rhea's sword impaled her straight through from her back to her stomach. The Archbishop's non-dominant hand came around to cup the woman's mouth, stiffing any cries she may have tried to make. The look on Rhea's face was deranged. Those crazed eyes mixed with her normal, peaceful smile was an expression Byleth would never forget so long as she lived. Nor would she forget the sight of Monica's body warping and changing into a different person entirely. Orange hair, much shorter, but her skin was paler than death. Pitch black clothes and pale skin?

**An Agarthian. How fitting. I do not pity her.**

Rhea seemed to share Sothis's amusement at the reveal. "How bold," she cooed. "So many vermin slithering up from the sewers these days." The woman's eyes raked over the girl in her hold, surveying her form. "I do believe I have a use for you though. Consider yourself blessed."

"Go. Fuck. Yourself," the girl hissed as audibly as she could. "I am Kronya. I am Thales's chosen one. No purpose could be higher than that, false prophet."

It was impressive that she could manage such cheek with a sword through her gut. The Agarthians truly were cut from a different cloth than surface dwellers. For all her spitfire and spunk, she could not resist the sleep spell Rhea cast on her by spite alone. Her cell now stank strongly of the iron of blood, a fine addition to her already unpleasing conditions. Rhea did not address her. Merely locked the door on her gilded cage once more and dragged the prone woman away. Byleth truly did not want to know what plans the saint had for Kronya. 

She also did not have much of a chance to worry about it. True to Sothis's worries, her half-attempt at freeing herself was met with harsh retaliation. Most days, Byleth could not even speak her own name, let alone string together a coherent thought. All she could do was experience the new heights of pain Rhea subjected her to and doze her days away otherwise. So rarely was she conscious anymore that it shocked her when she opened her eyes with a clear mind. 

**You have a visitor,** Sothis advised.

Byleth's breath caught in her throat. Sothis did not sound alarmed, only exhausted. Perhaps a bit sad. Not a threat then. That worried her even more, somehow. Struggling to roll over, Byleth realized for the first time how thin she was getting. She must have made a ghastly sight. Finally, settling onto her other side with a sigh, she met the gaze of her guest.

"Lin," she breathed, overwhelmed by how happy she was to see his familiar face, but also how scared she was for his safety.

"Professor," he greeted, sounding strangled. Like he was moments from crying. He looked like it too. It broke her heart. 

"Call me Byleth, Linhardt," she whispered with a tired smile. "I never was a very good professor anyway."

"You weren't all bad. I like you better as a friend though, truth be told."

"Mm." Byleth took stock of the boy before her, drinking in the sight of him while she could. Despite Caspar's terrified story, Byleth could not see any sign of abuse upon him. While not nearly as run down as Claude had looked, Linhardt definitely wasn't sleeping well. His exhaustion did not show itself in dark circles beneath his eyes nor a pale visage. It was his lack of care in how he presented himself. Linhardt had never been the flashiest dresser, but he looked presentable at least. Now, in a flowy and stained white shirt and a pair of pants that we far too large for him, Byleth couldn't imagine what put him in such a state. 

Who was she to fret over something like that though? She was sure her own appearance was far worse.

She yearned to indulge in the pleasant company of a friend after who knows how long of endless pain. Yet it was too big a risk. Byleth could not let Linhardt share the same fate as Kronya.

"Linhardt, listen-"

"If you're going to tell me to leave, kindly save your breath. I am vividly aware of the consequences of my presence here. Lady Seiros will likely want to skin me alive for a second such transgression and well..." Linhardt's small smile curled at the corners, a dare clear in his eyes. "I expect she will find teaching me a lesson far more difficult this time around."

This time? Second transgression? So Caspar had been right. "Lin, what did she do to you?"

For all he claimed to have been injured by her, his skin was unmarred. Would Rhea have healed him? Hilda was not shown such mercy, at least not fully. Linhardt did not allow her to ponder on it for long.

"Does it matter? Flayn was more than capable of repairing whatever damage I faced." His face contorted into a grimace. "For a price. But all powerful magic has one."

"I've not known you to beat around the bush this way, Linhardt."

Linhardt shrugged, giving her a lopsided smile. "Recent events have convinced me that some secrets need not be aired for all to hear."

Byleth pondered his meaning for a moment before Sothis replayed his words in her mind. He hadn't said Rhea earlier...he had called her Seiros.

**He knows.**

Eyes roaming his figure, Byleth realized that he must have. Was that why Rhea had punished him? For knowing too much? His typical pool of resources would not be enough to teach him such secrets. That had been the entire point of venturing to Shambhala after all. 

"Flayn told you?" she guessed.

Linhardt nodded. "Yes. Reluctantly. Though, I suppose she realized she didn't really have a choice. Either I found out now or in thirty years from now. The latter would have been much more awkward for everyone involved."

Byleth's brow furrowed as she pieced together the puzzle before her. An injury that normal healing magic would not have sufficiently mended. A consequence that would become apparent over time. A secret that could not be hidden any longer. Ah. It was time. Time was the key element here. 

"Did Flayn give you a blood transfusion?"

Blue eyes widened in pleased surprise. "Very good deduction, Professor. Oh, I mean Byleth. It seems you've become versed with all this Nabatean nonsense as well."

Nonsense certainly did feel appropriate sometimes. Who would willingly believe that a young girl's blood would be able to heal a friend's critical wounds in exchange for forced immortality? Or at least longevity. Byleth would have to discuss this with Seteth and Flayn to learn more in that regard. Still, there was one element of this that Byleth couldn't get a grasp on.

"I would have expected you to be more chipper about this whole thing, Linhardt. You've learned some of the best kept secrets about Crests in the world."

Sighing deeply, Linhardt leaned forward to rest against the bars of her cell. The melancholy on his face made her own chest hurt sympathetically. "You're not wrong. In normal circumstances, I may have loved this. The fact of the matter is that I've come to discover that the search for truth is a double edged sword. I know almost all there is to know about Crests and their origins now. And now I am a slave to that knowledge. Forever." He sneered the last word, eyes closing tightly. Byleth reached her hand through the gap in the bars to wrap her fingers around his own. This was one problem of his Byleth could undoubtedly relate to. These secrets they kept were heavy. Knowing them was one thing...living them was another. It wouldn't just be Linhardt who suffered if this got out. Flayn, Seteth, her, the other children of Sothis who were supposedly still roaming the world. It was a scary prospect. 

"I'm sorry," Byleth expressed.

Linhardt opened his eyes to meet her own. It would have felt so shallow coming from most other people. But she understood. And she could tell that he felt that as his hand turned to lace their fingers together. Byleth was essentially powerless in this cage of hers, but this much should could give him. 

Byleth heard the tears in his voice before she could see them. "I had no choice in the matter. That's the frightening part. I returned from that foul business in Remire hoping to arm myself with information. Everything is moving so quickly towards some crux point and I know it will be devastating, but I can't for the life of me, even now, imagine how to deal with it. How to protect those I love and myself from whatever chaos is about to ensue. Going into the Archbishop's bedroom was foolish, I'll admit, but I couldn't sit and wait around for someone else to figure things out. I guess I'm not completely unlike Edelgard in that respect. Damnit." Linhardt laughed ruefully, sniffling. Byleth still had no idea what had occurred in Remire or what Edelgard had to do with this, but she let him vent. "I honestly thought I was going to die when she struck me down, but then I was waking up in Flayn's room. Being told I was lucky our Crests matched up or else that whole procedure would have killed me. Yet, now, without ever deciding anything for myself, I'm doomed to walk this exhausting world alone for Goddess knows how long, guarding this secret and isolating myself further from society. What part of that is lucky?"

"You won't be alone," she promised, even though it was an empty thing. Who knew if she and Sothis would ever fuse. Who knew if Byleth would even still exist in this world after this was all over? Still, she was sure that Flayn would be hard pressed to let Linhardt suffer under the weight of this burden alone. Finding a bit of humor in that picture, she joked weakly, "You can be Flayn's fraternal twin. Seteth may make you clean your room though."

Scoffing, Linhardt managed a real smile. "He may try." Then as an after thought, he used his free hand to pick at his ponytail. "Never thought having green hair would be a serviceable trait but here we are."

"Maybe it was meant to be," she mused, relieved that he had been drawn out of his dour mood.

"I suppose you would know better than anyone," Linhardt observed, giving her a curious look. "You are the vessel for the Goddess herself after all, are you not? If there was a being out there that could control this convoluted reality of ours, it would be you."

Huffing in faux amusement, Byleth forced her legs underneath her, arms shaking as she tried and failed several times to sit up. A hand caught her arm on her third attempt, dragging her up and closer, so she could lean on the bars. Linhardt was warm where they were pressed together. A far cry from the unforgiving frigidity of the stone floor. Tears sprang to her eyes at the simple pleasure of physical contact that wasn't painful. It was such a silly response, but indicative of just how much trauma she carried with her now. 

Ah well. Soldier's nightmares were a luxury of the survivors. She was yet to count herself among their number. 

Tilting her head up to meet Lin's gaze, Byleth confessed, "Vessel or no, I am woefully helpless. I couldn't run, nor hide. Fighting seems a fruitless venture. In the end, I was just a puppet...set to dance along with Rhea's vile strings."

Linhardt's blue eyes searched hers for a moment before he pressed his forehead against her own as best they could with the metal between them. "Perhaps you'll find me presumptuous, but I can't help but disagree. After all, no mere mortal could create a pocket in time and space while unconscious."

Byleth's breath felt as if it had been stolen from her lungs all at once. "A...what?" She searched the cell and hallway for any indication of what Lin was referring to, but found nothing particularly astray. The grey, poorly lit dungeon was the same as it ever was. The torch flames flickered back and forth at the same pace. Some further down towards the stairs had even gone out. 

At her confused expression, Linhardt's tone became almost teasing. "You truly didn't notice. Remarkable. You've created a rift between periods of time and space here. It is small. Does not distort the visual field. Only a superbly skilled mage could even recognize it's existence." The boy's small smile turned a bit smug. "And I was the first to figure out how to cross it. Even Seiros has been thwarted thus far. Thus why, by my approximation, we should have at least another few hours before she divines a solution and tries again to pierce the veil."

That was why she was so lucid. She had finally been able to rest long enough for the poison to clear from her mind. But for how long though? And why had this distortion appeared around her cell only now?

 **He does not refer to just this cell. It extends further**.

A large radius then. Even more curious. Byleth assumed that the magic block placed upon her would have prevented such a thing. Even now, she could scarcely summon a spark of flame to her palm. Yet she managed to encapsulate the whole prison in a rift. Byleth had never even heard of such magic before. 

**It would not be the first time your use of time magic has superseded your conscious will. Some of the little ones felt the echo of the Divine Pulse from Gronder.**

Yes. That was true. Lysithea had not known how to describe the feeling of being pulled back through time but she did suffer under a vision of another reality: one where she killed Balthus...and Raphael along with him. Never before had her trigger for a Divine Pulse been nearly so intense, nor emotional. Yet, if that were the case, why would it also apply to a torture session she could not even remember? Had her emotional anguish really been that staggering?

And on that note. "How did you get in here then, Linhardt?"

Linhardt had been observing her quietly, content to wait for her to fully ponder the situation. Her question seemed to shock him out of his own thoughts. "Well...I wasn't quite sure that it would work. I noticed the energy inside the rift had a... fluctuation to it. Like waves. Spilling outward due to a concentration gradient but in an ebb and flow. Oddly enough, my own magic has felt a lot like that since I..." Linhardt paused, sighing deeply. "Since Flayn saved me. My body is not yet accustomed to having a major crest. My whole body burned something awful the first day because the energy was trapped inside me. Once I learned how to release it passively, it was fine. Until then though? Agony."

Byleth threaded her fingers through Linhardt's again. Words would do nothing to ease such a condition, so she did not attempt to offer him any. His squeeze in return told her that he appreciated her gesture all the same.

"I theorized that if I could match the flow of my own magic to that of the rift, I could somehow...enter the plane it was on and pass through it. Goddess knows how long I stood there. Eventually, I got it though. And here I am."

"And here you are," Byleth smiled. "Thank you Linhardt. Truly. After all you've gone through, I wouldn't have faulted you from distancing yourself from this wretched mess. Yet, you've only waded further into it. I will likely never be able to properly express my gratitude."

Linhardt scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh, please. You say that as if I started this on a whim. I decided quite a long time ago now that I would side with you when push came to shove."

Eyes widening, Byleth's voice shook a bit. "That's...a bit unlike you, Linhardt."

Mouth quirked in fond amusement, he agreed. "Hmm. I won't argue with you there."

Her first impression of this boy was the one Edelgard presented her with when describing the Black Eagles: lazy, unmotivated, and brilliant. Though she was never his professor, Byleth often found herself fishing side by side with the sleepy scholar, listening to his latest theory or postulation. She liked Linhardt. She got the feeling that much of his blunt and uncaring air was a consequence of a childhood full of adults uninterested in his passions, caring only about pushing their agendas on him. Byleth had always wondered if he would ever find something that flipped his switch. If she would be there to witness what he was like when he actually wanted to do something.

Never did she imagine she would be the benefactor of such single minded motivation. 

It was more than humbling. Someone who despised blood and fighting jumping into the fray for her sake. Vaguely, Byleth remembered Linhardt mentioning that all he really wanted was to find a nice, peaceful place to sleep and fish the days away and study crests. Perhaps that last part was moot now, but if it was possible, she decided she would help him find the rest. It was the least she could do. 

"If you are looking to return the favor though, I do have something in mind."

Byleth blinked herself out of her thoughts, recognizing that coy tone. She was more accustomed to it coming from a different pair of lips though.

**How amusing. You truly do attract a certain type of man to you.**

Oh? She thought grumpily. And what would that be?

**Pretty. Complicated. Too smart for their own good. Perhaps just a touch shy of conniving.**

Well...she couldn't deny it. Yuri, Claude and Linhardt all seemed to fit that bill. And like her other two schemers, Linhardt seemed utterly unconcerned that she would deny him. How troublesome, she mused with a wry smile. "I'm listening."

Linhardt pulled himself up to his feet, the boy pulled a nondescript looking key from his pocket. Whispering a charm as he twisted it into the lock, Lin succeeded in pulling open the door. Byleth's breath caught in her chest. Damn. Even the squeak of the hinge sent chills racing down her spine. Linhardt sensed her unease, approaching her slowly and offering her his hand.

"Let's get you out of here. I won't have you wasting away in this cell a second longer if I can help it."

She stared at his outstretched palm blankly, body still trembling. "And go where?"

Smiling as gently as he could, Lin shook his head. "That's my request. I'd like you to trust me."

There were risks. Huge ones. Yet, from the moment Linhardt broke the magical seal Rhea had hidden over the keyhole after the Kronya incident, those consequences were already set into motion. By herself, she could not imagine a scenario where she emerged from this nightmare with her life. However, she wasn't alone. Linhardt was here with her. Yuri would no doubt be coming with Balthus, Constance and Hapi. In an ideal world, Claude's crazy plans with Edelgard and Dimitri would bear fruit as well. She had no idea what would happen if she stepped foot outside this cell.

But she did know what would happen if she stayed. 

Steeling herself, Byleth slipped her hand into Linhardt's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my inspiration for Yuri's new look actually was this lovely piece of fanart. https://twitter.com/eggyankee/status/1239041067137347584?s=20. I'm a huge fan of all of this artist's stuff so please go check em out!
> 
> Ahhhh! I'm glad I got this written. The scene with Linny was the first thing I wrote for it and I basically spent the rest of my time trying to make it work. I love that boy. What a badass. I always wanted him to join the immortal kids club and now he has! Yay! Don't worry, Byleth has 0 intention of leaving Yuri for Linny. I just cant't not write them being tender and cutesy together. 
> 
> Also that whole thing with Jeralt? I don't know where that came from. I like how it came out tho. Same thing with Yuri's mama, but that I did very much intend to do at some point.
> 
> I apologize for Claude. I don't love how he's written here, but I don't have it in me to change it. Imagine it as him and Byleth understanding what has to go down, but both of them being grouchy about it. I always hate how he focused on the fucking sword so much. Like geez Claude, if you love the sword so much, why don't you marry it?
> 
> Maaan. We are ramping up here. Gonna get messier soon. Get pumped! (But not too pumped I'm gonna maybe disappear again. But I'll be back!)


	11. Two birds, one stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As I stand here before you now, I know the shaking in your limbs as well as you do. Our enemy is not just familiar faces, ghoulish beasts, and ancient magic. Our enemy is a system that has sought to strip us of freedom, choice and connectedness. To minimize what makes us human. And has done so for generations. We stand to lose everything to this bout. It is enough to make one weak. Yet, we have the strength to scale the walls between us, to reach out our hands in friendship so that we can open our true hearts to one another. We are not alone in this fight. On the other side of this battlefield, our brothers and sisters from the Empire and Kingdom face the same horrors we do. Let us meet them and join hands with them, not just as the Alliance and it's neighbors...but as a United Fódlan. Our unity, our hearts are what Rhea and the Church would steal from us. But those things make us human and make us strong despite fear, despite doubt. That's how we will win! Now who's with me?!"
> 
> -Duke Claude von Riegan, Battle for Garreg Mach, Imperial Year 1180.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amid all the chaos and confusion we are experiencing as a world right now, I want to remind my readers that I love and appreciate you all. Regardless of skin tone, age, sex, sexuality, gender. I can't contribute much to the sanity and well being of people outside my reach, so I figured this chapter would be an excellent summary of how I feel about the state of the US at present.
> 
> As for warnings in this chapter, I will only say that it is heavy at times. I will remind you all of the "eventual happy ending" tag. The last part of it feels like things are moving quickly. That's on purpose. It is how I imagined the characters would feel as well. If you were looking for music to accompany any of this fic, here is a link to a playlist I made specifically of songs I listened to while writing. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5UDrjmLTl2GtZS5f3zvPPh?si=iNX5UWh5TzGl18xijRifPw
> 
> Stay safe and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks y'all.

It had only taken three round-table conferences for Claude to learn that he despised them horridly. The Alliance, even under his grandfather's experienced hand, was an unwieldy beast. Fickle and self interested. Trust was not a word in their vocabulary. Loyalty was a prize won by capital gain and clear opportunity for victory in the future. Claude scorned the short sighted attitude but understood it well: after all, Almyra was a similar mess. Knives hidden in the dark, whispers dripping with poison, eyes that lingered on coin purses and war maps. This whole endeavor only further cemented his longing to see that changed. If he could manage to rip this foul heart out of Fódlan and replace it with a purer one, see it made into a country of open arms and rational thought, perhaps that would be the feat he needed to bring home to his father. The perfect ammunition to assure him a spot in the running for next King. With how insurmountable this particular mountain seemed at present, the Throat of the World would be an ant hill by the time he reached it.

Though, he would not have such capable allies on his side back at home.

The speeches given at the round-table that evening had been nothing short of magic. A circle of uncooperative brats in noble garb were forced to watch as Edelgard harshly struck down every single hesitation with the same adeptness as she wielded her axe. Any lack of faith in their future was thwarted by Dimitri's transparency and steadfast belief in their cause. Hurt feelings and political faux pas were smoothed over by his own familiarity with the tired arguments of each House. Goneril spoke on their behalf, lending a sizable army to them for once without fretting about the Almyran border. Almost an impossibility made reality. Edmund lent coin to turn eyes to where they needed to be. In the end, even Count Gloucester could not hold out. 

Their situation was not without complications. Many smaller houses had already joined up with the Church's forces. Whatever men defied their lords and defected would either bleed on their home land or the planes around Garreg Mach. Their scouts reported a frightening amount of civilians being huddled closer to the monastery as a shield. Not all cities in the Dominic territory would let Dimitri pass without a fight. Innocent people would die. None of their allies realized yet that their comfortable positions in court were at risk. That would cause even more upheaval. 

Those battles were for another day, though. There would be no sense in putting the cart before the horse when the horse was actually, apparently, a fucking dragon.

Learning the truth about Saint Seiros and what magical anomalies awaited them at the end of this bloody path was certainly the most uncertain variable. Claude had to hand it to Edelgard though; her uncanny ability to twist that terrible tale into a reason to liberate themselves from the Church was inspiring and perhaps a bit scary. The three armies had been secured and were prepared to fight under the same banner: The Army of the Three Houses. It was a cute name, a bit on the nose, but fitting. The kind of name that Claude hoped future leaders of Fódlan would read about in history books and feel empowered by. Their narrative had heart and focus.

Now they just needed results.

"I'm impressed, Duke von Riegan. You handled your people well. When the dust has settled, you will be a good and fair ruler."

Smiling to himself, Claude turned to face Edelgard, who had come to join him on the high balcony of Judith's estate. "Would have all been for naught without your presence, Your Majesty. Emperor-dom suits you. Though the horns are a bit much."

Edelgard rolled her eyes playfully, smile a bit too pleased to be truly annoyed. He had that effect on her nowadays, which was a marvel in and of itself. It shocked him a bit when she wrapped him in her arms rather than taking a place at his side. Japes and banter, sure, but Claude had never known if they were this type of friends. Still, returning the embrace was no burden. It was nice really, all things considered. Much warmer than he would have expected from the frosty Empress. Though, he supposed he was one of the people most intimately aware of how untrue that was. Edelgard was no ice princess. Inside, she burned with a fire hot enough to melt any obstacles in her path. 

Without pulling away from him, Edelgard mused. "Your eyes are brighter now. That darkness from before...it's not gone but it's not dragging you around by your nose anymore. I'm glad. I missed your smartass remarks."

Resting his cheek on her head, a feat considering the golden curled ornamental horns she wore, Claude nodded. "Wasn't aware you thought so highly of my ass or it's intelligence. Fear not, Empress. Both are at your disposal readily." He laughed at the pinch she gave his side in rebuke. "And what of you? Those answers you wrung your wrists searching for in our eyes every eve in that study room...did you find them?"

Edelgard pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. Her gaze was critical, typical for a woman like her. Always the type to appraise her allies just as thoroughly as her enemies. At least, Claude thought, it seemed like she learned to determine what the difference between the two groups was now.

"Yes. I did. I have Dimitri to thank for that."

Ah. Another result of Remire. He had yet to hear the whole story, but he suspected they'd tell him when they were ready. As if summoned by hearing his name, the blond haired king approached them looking completely exhausted. "What are we thanking me for?"

He and Edelgard shared a smirk. "I was just telling Claude here how you called him and I frustrating bone heads that can't see two feet in front of us."

Dimitri seemed unbothered by the jab. All he had to offer in defense of himself were an airy shrug of his shoulders and "ah, well yes. You are."

It pleased Claude to see the young man so...unhaunted for once. How quaint that their world was on the brink of collapsing into chaos yet the three of them were the most put together they had been in nearly a year. Their titles were heavy things resting on shoulders so young and inexperienced where it mattered. Tomorrow was a frightening prospect and would be until Garreg Mach was painted red with blood. Yet, here, Claude could almost convince himself he was home.

He did not have words to describe such a glorious feeling, but when he reached out a hand to drag Dimitri closer to them, the lot of them maneuvered themselves effortlessly into a three-way hug. Claude could only hope they could read his love for them in the tightness of his grip. He certainly felt their own in how long they lingered there, bathed in the light of a new dawn. 

Preparations from there went blindingly fast. Claude lost himself to strategy meetings, briefing Judith on Nader's arrival and any signals they'd need to use to communicate with the Almyrans. If Duke Goneril was displeased by his intention to call upon his old foes' squadron, he did not show it. Yuri had promised they'd find a pleasant surprise waiting for them at the front when they finally arrived, sending the Wolves and Jeralt ahead to position themselves close enough for Hapi to warp them into the monastery. Claude himself was a bit skeptical of the idea: even Hubert couldn't send more than himself and Edelgard anywhere further than a few yards. Five people? Seemed risky. Still, this whole thing felt risky and their plans wouldn't change whether the Wolves succeeded or failed.

The only variable they controlled was Teach. Who was likely...

No. Thinking of her was an exercise in unnecessary frustration. She had even forbade him from doing so, last they spoke. In the worst case, she would simply be another scar upon his heart to heal slowly with time. That was all she could be. All he had the right to anymore. It did not stop him from breaking into Judith's whiskey and spending an evening curled up miserably beside Hilda and Marianne, who he had interrupted with his drunken blabbering. Just one night of mourning for his lost beloved friend, then he would move on. And if at the war's conclusion that mourning was all just an overreaction, well...it wasn't as if he would be disappointed. Claude had learned long ago that saving himself from lofty expectations was the surest way to peace. There were better places to spend his optimism.

In no time at all, they were setting off on a march that very well may be their last. Their armies would be attacking from different angles. It was the best way to handle a stationary enemy. Especially one keen on defending a specific location. No matter how large their numbers or solid their strategy, it still chilled Claude to the bone to see a field full of those wicked dolls they'd faced in the Chasm of the Bound and demonic beasts waiting for them. Who even were the poor fools sacrificed for such a wicked purpose? Soldiers? Priests? Unfortunate farmhands from the nearby villages? Rhea's craftiness was as admirable as it was sinister, as usual.

The best part? The general facing down the Alliance troops as they approached was none other than Cyril. Claude always knew that the kid had far too much love in his heart for Rhea to betray her. It was one thing to imagine that someone would die for their short sighted loyalties. It was another to bring the hammer down yourself. Claude could feel the hesitation and unease settling into his vanguard. Low morale would shatter them in a fight like this. Turning to face his countrymen, his beloved friends and classmates and family here in this country which was an imperfect and beautiful as his own, Claude let his voice carry loud and clear.

"As I stand here before you now, I know the shaking in your limbs as well as you do. Our enemy is not just familiar faces, ghoulish beasts, and ancient magic. Our enemy is a system that has sought to strip us of freedom, choice and connectedness. To minimize what makes us human. And has done so for generations. We stand to lose everything to this bout. It is enough to make one weak. Yet, we have the strength to scale the walls between us, to reach out our hands in friendship so that we can open our true hearts to one another. We are not alone in this fight. On the other side of this battlefield, our brothers and sisters from the Empire and Kingdom face the same horrors we do. Let us meet them and join hands with them, not just as the Alliance and it's neighbors...but as a United Fódlan. Our unity, our hearts are what Rhea and the Church would steal from us. But those things make us human and make us strong despite fear, despite doubt. That's how we will win! Now who's with me?!"

And with a frenzied roar did the war to free Fódlan truly begin.

* * *

There were more than a few situations Yuri had spent multiple nights pacing the halls of the Alliance war bunker thinking about. The date of the proposed new ceremony being a farce, being too late to save her, Rhea having multiple battalions full of soldiers waiting eagerly for them to infiltrate the monastery. So many fun and creative options for what would await them on the day of their operation. Yuri had briefly considered that Hapi could warp them shakily onto the academy grounds and find the entire monastery to be eerily empty. It somehow unnerved him more than the possibility of being met with an immediate fight. 

Jeralt seemed just as put off as he was. "The place is quiet. Too quiet."

Leaning heavily against Balthus's bulk, Hapi panted, looking ill, "Don't suppose we can agree to not look a gift horse in the mouth on this one?"

"Sadly not, friend," Yuri muttered, hand on the hilt of his sword. "Gross negligence isn't really the Archbishop's cup of tea."

"Whether there are foes lying in wait or not, our directives must not change. Find Byleth, free her, draw Rhea out of hiding, join the others. Complicating matters will surely only lead to our downfall," Constance pointed out, rubbing a sympathetic hand over Hapi's trembling back.

Balthus kept a vigilant eye out, far more serious than normal. Yuri would gladly bet it had something to do with Hapi's obvious discomfort. He had always been soft on her. "Any chance this is your buddies' work, Blade Breaker?"

"Not impossible but our reports from just a day ago didn't include this. And I doubt any order to send all available arms to the front would be done carelessly. Constance is right though, there's no point in trying to think our way out of a dark room. We gotta move."

The juxtaposition of the state of things within the walls compared to outside of them was jarring. Out there, it was chaos. The forces Yuri and Balthus had garnered were disjointed, ranging from well paid individuals to small interested militias. Balthus's men had joined up with the Alliance army, lending their strength to the forces that needed to cover the most ground to reunite with the Empire and Kingdom troops. Yuri had taken a different approach with his volunteers. Those willing to assist from Abyss had posed as spies within the Holy Army of Seiros, misconstruing battle reports and even poisoning meals at some point. Some of his underground contacts had supplied them with explosives, which they had planted strategically under ballistas and catapults. Those large wooden structures going up in flames had been the signal for the Wolves to start their infiltration, creating just enough disorganization in the ranks for them to sneak close to the walls, stow the horses and warp in. 

Like all things in this war, it was a gambit to send small groups of undercover operatives into an army that was transforming themselves into demonic beasts. When the smoke cleared, Yuri knew he would be adding more names to his book. It was inevitable. He hated that, despised it. The fact remained that unless the Army of the Three Houses could push through and make it to the gates, this war of theirs would be but a smudge on Seiros's legacy. History would recall them with disdain, not triumph. Yuri would atone for his participation in leading those folks to their deaths later.

Even with a war waging outside the monastery walls, the interior was still serene and quiet. The flames of revolution had yet to reach the skies above the campus. The sounds of men and women dying for their cause in the fields, the wretched cries of demonic beasts and twisted mechanical monsters, none of it had broken through the pocket of peace that Garreg Mach was so renowned for. More disconcerting was the complete lack of occupants within the academy. Where were the orphans taken in after Remire that Dimitri had bid they protect? What of the priests and bishops from the church? It was frightening to think that even they would be out there, guzzling down potions to remove them from their humanity in the name of a woman that did not care for them.

As they wandered through the abandoned reception hall, set on crossing the bridge towards their last known report of Byleth's location, Constance stopped them with a grim warning. "There's something amiss here."

"Uh, yeah, I'll say. It's creepy as shit in here. No guards, no civilians, no anyone. Gimmie something to punch already. Damn."

"Not what I was referring to, Balthus. At first I believed it to be a consequence of our recent warp, now I see that I was incorrect. There is magic in the air here. The likes of which we have seen only in Shambhala."

Yuri narrowed his eyebrows, considering her finding. "To what end? Can you feel a source for it?"

"I can only speculate the nature of the former, but there does seem to be a point of origin. Several, in fact. This aura I can only compare to those wicked puppets we faced back in the Chasm of the Bound."

Weakly raising her head, Hapi added, "Those dolls were roaming around the fields too. If they just keep coming like they did when we fought them, our friends are in deep shit."

"Then we just need Constance to shut em down like last time, yeah?" Balthus grinned down at Hapi, who was still leaning heavily against him. "Find the magic lever thingies, turn em off, punch what comes to mess with us. Bam! No more dollies."

Yuri read the hesitation on Constance's face for what it truly was. Were they to split their priorities, they'd also likely need to split the group. There was not a snowball's chance in Ailell that Yuri was going to stray from his goal of finding Byleth. Jeralt likely would prefer finding her posthaste as well. Judging by the way the three of them were looking at him, they likely knew what they were suggesting. Were Yuri ever in need of proof that his wolf pack had become almost completely independent over the course of this journey, this would be it. They were already such a small task force. Dividing further would put them at risk, tactically speaking. That didn't matter to them and never had, though. The Ashen Wolves were capable individually and unstoppable together. If they intended to address this new goal, Yuri certainly wasn't going to stand in their way.

Yuri shook his head with a wry smile. "Not much of a leader am I? We keep getting separated." 

Constance laughed pleasantly, a prideful grin upon her face. "Well I'm glad you could figure that much out on your own, Yuri. We are plenty capable of fending for ourselves."

"Same thing happened at Shambhala and we were fine. Don't know why we would go worrying about it now," Hapi shrugged tiredly.

"Yeah Boss. You wouldn't be much help til By's safe anyway. Go get your lady! We got this."

Truly, it was humbling to be the self proclaimed alpha of a wolf pack like this. Not unlike a mama bird watching her chicks flies away from the nest, Yuri supposed. Helpless to deny them, Yuri agreed. "Fair enough. Meet back near the stairs to the second floor when you're done. And this goes without saying, but try not to get yourselves killed."

"You got it, Boss!"

"Don't be so damn dramatic, Yuri-bird. What is there to even kill us anyway in this ghost town?"

"Hapi, do refrain from inviting misfortune upon us with such a jest. At least, until you are in appropriate condition to combat said misfortune."

"Yeah yeah."

Yuri watched as Constance led them away, still hating how powerless he felt to protect them every time they separated this way. Feeling eyes upon him, he turned to look at Jeralt, who observed him from afar with an almost amused expression.

"Something to say, Blade Breaker?"

Grinning, the man shook his head and started down the bridge. "Just that a leader who trusts in his allies is worth his weight in gold."

High praise coming from a successful Captain of the Knights of Seiros and famous mercenary. Perhaps this was what boys sought from father figures; this intrinsic satisfaction from their efforts being acknowledged. Yuri wasn't quite sure what to do with such a feeling, but couldn't deny that it was pleasant having one's future father in law approve of their war-time delegation. No time to dwell on it though. There were more important things to ruminate over.

Such as, for instance, this Goddess awful bridge. Yuri had spent the first two months of his time at the Officer's Academy cataloging every nook and cranny the monastery had to offer. Knowing his way around a fight was one thing, being able to succeed in unfamiliar territory was another. Knowledge was power in his world and Yuri refused to allow himself the disadvantage of being unaware of his surroundings. One of the first things he decided was that he never, ever, under any circumstances wanted to get into a scuffle on the bridge between the greater campus and the cathedral. Long, thin, overlooking a drop so perilous no one could survive the plummet. The thing was a screaming death trap. That was not to even mention how vulnerable one was to aerial attack. 

Yuri and Sothis were really going to have chat about fate slapping him over the face with ironic hardships as of late. It was terribly rude.

There, in the middle of the bridge, was Shamir and a warrior who looked to be Alois Rangeld. A pathetically thin layer of protection if Yuri was being honest, but he also wasn't about to pass on a winnable bet. Drawing his sword, he noticed that Jeralt had yet to prepare his own weapon. It made sense. These two were likely coworkers of his.

As they grew nearer, Yuri called out a teasing greeting to the archer. "Hey there, Shamir! Looks like we will finally get to the part where we kill each other after all. Aren't we lucky?"

The woman said nothing in response, only selecting an arrow from her quiver and notching it loosely on her bow. Yuri could have cried at the deprivation of any good banter. Dramatic fights to the death _needed_ a bit of wordplay. Else wise, what was the point?

Alois at least seemed to understand his desires.

"Captain!" Alois cried, expression full of such earnest conflict that Yuri almost felt bad for the man. They'd never had a reason to speak, but from the brief time interacting with the Knight during the whole Aelfric debacle, he had come off as a cheerful sort. Betrayal always struck that type of man hardest. "Please, Captain. I love a dry joke as much as anyone, but even I'm having a hard time finding the humor in this one. Stop this madness and come back to us."

"Not gonna happen, Alois. Not when it's Byleth's life on the line." Despite his firm tone, the mercenary still hadn't drawn his weapon yet. There was some sort of sore spot here, that was for sure. Yuri begrudgingly had to trust that it wouldn't interfere with their mission.

"Lady Rhea wouldn't actually kill Byleth, Captain Jeralt," the man laughed, face still twisted by anxiety. He looked to his companion to join in his jest. "Right? Shamir?" The woman beside him said nothing, merely testing the resistance of her bowstring, eyes still locked on Yuri. Her lack of agreement etched away at Alois's fragile mirth. Yuri didn't hate men like him. Too sweet for war, too trusting for sabotage. Loyalty would be his downfall no matter what path he walked. Glancing over at Jeralt, Yuri wondered if maybe they could make use of that.

Seeing that a fight was inevitable, Jeralt leveled his lance. "Got a preference, kid?" Splitting the work between them would be most efficient. They also had a bit of a time concern. Any reinforcements would spell disaster for their whole operation. Taking these two out quickly and without mess would be the best option. Yuri was confident in his ability to down the big softie. Sadly, Shamir had a bit of an advantage against Jeralt too. And there was more than one way to skin a cat...

"Nope. But it sounds like that guy does."

Jeralt met his eye for a moment. Surely he didn't want to have to kill these two if there was no need. Nodding, the older man grumbled. "Yeah. Sure does. Alright. Let's get this over with quickly and go get Byleth."

Flexing the hand that held the Fetters, Yuri grinned. "Couldn't agree more."

Taking off in a crouch, Yuri kept an eye on the archer. Her draw was lightning quick, as expected for a former mercenary, but Yuri had accounted for that. Closing the distance between himself and the startled Alois took no time at all. The strike of his sword against Alois's axe was a stall, more meant to draw out Shamir's attack than to do any damage to the knight. Shamir was ruthless but not unfeeling: even she wouldn't shoot her own allies to spite her enemy. When her arrow knocked harmlessly off the wall of the bridge, Yuri let the power of the Fetters of Dromi flow through him, twirling around the man and towards his true target. Yuri tossed a playful wink to the confused warrior, smiling when he heard the knight squawk in response to Jeralt launching an attack of his own.

"Why are you doing this, Captain?!" Alois grunted, struggling under the weight of Jeralt's attack. Their blades met twice more in a flurry of sparks.

"Because I was right about Rhea. I should have never come back here with you. Byleth's paying the price of that mistake now. And I aim to do something about it. Why are _you_ doing this?"

If Alois had an answer, Yuri didn't hear it. Despite the close quarters, Shamir was still a damn good shot. And very agile. If not for the Fetters, Yuri wouldn't be able to stay close enough to make any swipes with his sword. His own archery wasn't bad, but not nearly good enough to try a shoot out with a veteran sniper. They danced around each other, a stone's throw away from where Jeralt and Alois seemed trapped in a deadlock. Or perhaps, the man was simply listening to reason. Yuri really hoped it was the second. Having backup to pin Shamir would be helpful. Every time he managed to scratch her, she vaulted herself onto the wall and swung around a flag pole to put some space between them. It was infuriating. Was this what it was like to fight him? 

Now, there was an idea. How did his enemies deal with him, the few times they were successful in doing so? Many hits were likely blind luck, truth be told. Thrust of a sword he likely could have dodged but didn't. Byleth's victories had been hard fought but complete. During their spar he had simply underestimated her and his own exhaustion. Yuri didn't have time to turn this into a battle of attrition. That first fight though, she had used his speed against him, tripping him as he spun out of the range of her sword. That would be difficult against a ranged fighter but Yuri was nothing if not creative. 

He waited until her next shot brought her too close to the wall, dominant foot pressed against it. Darting past him would put her far too close to his reach, so up onto the ledge she went. Luckily for him, she didn't have quite enough room to clear the edge with both feet and stumbled a bit. Yuri swiped at her unsteady leg, slicing clear through her boot. Shamir hissed, teetering towards the maw beneath them. Before she could fall, Yuri grabbed her flailing wrist and used her momentum to flip her over onto the ground harshly on her back. The shock of impact knocked the air from her lungs in a gasp, making it all too easy to press a knee to her sternum and his sword to her throat. 

"Yield," he sneered, feeling victorious. 

It was charming that the first real expression on the woman's face this whole time was a mix of annoyance and respect. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat but she still looked perfectly composed. Quite the remarkable fighter, that Shamir. "Don't be foolish. Kill me. If you let me go, I'll just be after your neck again."

Arching an eyebrow down at her, Yuri gripped. "Really have nothing to live for besides being Rhea's puppet? If that's the case, maybe death would be the most humane thing."

Lying her head back against the stone, Shamir allowed herself a wry smile. "No. That's not the case at all. I owed Rhea a debt. I'd say I've long since paid it off."

Ah. A language he could understand. It was sort of eerie how similar they were. "Then why stay?"

"Who knows? Maybe I was just curious."

That answer dripped of misdirection. The notion wasn't without merit though. If Yuri had no stake in this damnable conflict, what would he have done? Scurried off to the slums and shadows to wait it out? Joined a side, hoping to reap the benefits of victory? Betrayed them if he sensed the loss coming? This battle wasn't like other wars fought over capital or land or power. It was a conflict of ideology, a result of people linking arms to free themselves from corruption. All the bodies dancing to these war drums had decided for themselves what freedom looked like. Fights like this could almost teach you what it meant to be human. Who wouldn't be at least a little curious how that panned out?

He was trying to gather the words to invite Shamir to view that outcome from their side of the court when foot steps rapidly approached the two of them. Not armored, and coming from the cathedral not the monastery. Who...?

"Stop!"

Yuri knew that voice. Sure enough, there were Seteth and his young sister Flayn sprinting towards them. Growling, Yuri pressed his blade tighter against Shamir's throat. Damnit. They had taken too much time. Their only saving grace would be that Seteth didn't seem to have his wyvern with him. If Yuri killed Shamir and captured the girl, they may just have a chance. 

Flayn halted his plotting in place. "Alois, Shamir please cease! My brother and I believe there to be a way to avoid senseless killing."

All of Yuri's information on the girl said she was idealistic, naive, and pure hearted. For her to imagine a way out of this mess without bloodshed, as illogical as that was, Yuri could believe. He wasn't quite so sure he was willing to buy that Seteth agreed with her. For it would not be so outlandish for the Saint to appease the girl's nature but secretly plot behind her back. If there was anyone who could know the truth about Seiros and accept it unflinchingly, it was Cichol. From behind him, he could hear Alois and Jeralt approaching. Yuri did not take his eyes off of the church official's though. Sighing to himself, Seteth drew a lance from his back. Slowly, so that Yuri could parry him if he felt endangered, the man lowered his blade to replace Yuri's at Shamir's neck.

"Allow us to take over here, Yuri. Shamir, will you agree to a cease-fire? There are things we must discuss."

"Depends. Still trying to come to terms with you two of all people betraying Rhea."

When Yuri did not move, Jeralt placed a hand on his back. "Relax, kid. Seteth's with us. He was our inside man."

Every single rational thought in Yuri's mind screamed as he complied, stumbling to his feet. Sheathing his blade made his skin crawl, but he kept a hand on the hilt. Just until he could make sense of this strange scene. "Why? Why the sudden change of heart? How many months has this conflict been building for you only now to decide to take a stake in it? You'll have to forgive me for having my doubts of your intentions, Cichol."

Flayn gasped, raising her hands to her mouth delicately. Seteth himself wouldn't meet his gaze, guilt apparent on his face. From the corner of his eye, Yuri could read confusion in Alois and Shamir's shared glance. Good. If they were truly their allies, they wouldn't mind admitting to their true identities and explaining themselves. There was no way Yuri would fight alongside Rhea's brother and niece without assurance that they were resolved to end this, despite the costs.

"So you already know. That's probably for the best. Will save us a bit of time. Of which he have little." Seteth clapped a hand over Yuri's shoulder. "I know you must have questions. I shall provide whatever answers I can, I promise. But first, I believe there to be someone else more worthy of your attention at present."

Yuri frowned, gaze wandering past Seteth towards the cathedral for just a moment. It was long enough to realize there were two more people creeping their way towards them. As soon as his eyes brushed over that familiar teal hair, Yuri found himself breaking off into a shaky run. He was leaving himself open to attack, should Seteth be misleading him. He couldn't care less. All the muscles in his legs burned, as did his lungs. It did not matter. The very cosmos around him had narrowed itself to a fine point, one single entity filling up the whole universe with her splendor. No heed was paid to the watchful eyes of Jeralt and the Knights behind him. Nor any for Linhardt, whose presence Yuri could not fathom the importance of. 

All he saw was Byleth, drifting away from the steadying grip Linhardt had wrapped her in to toddle precariously towards him. Yuri didn't make much of an attempt at screeching to a halt, allowing himself to crash into her, luxuriating in her breathless laugh as he lifted her off her weak feet in a spin. There were things that he could register in his mind as problematic despite his elation. How the layers of dense muscle had seemed to melt off her body in less than a moon, for instance. How sunken her cheeks were, the rags she was dressed in haphazardly, her form lacking its normal warmth. There were certainly things to address and he had even more of a bone to pick with that damnable wench Rhea now. But he had seen worse. They had been through worse. They still might go through worse. So for the moment the only thing that really mattered was the fact that she was alive and whole in his arms. Those promises burning in his chest were not yet forfeit. Whatever was bent or broken, they could still fix. That was worth more to him than the hours he had spent unable to sleep, tortured by the empty place at his side. 

Time was not on their side, yet it was also meaningless now that he had her in his arms again. It was hard to convince himself that anything could go wrong now that he had her back. Even when they separated enough to give each other a proper appraisal, Yuri yearned only to drag her back against him. Damn the war. Damn Rhea. Damn their voyeurs, one of whom was her father. 

Byleth seemed equally mesmerized by his presence. Or maybe it was his new appearance. Hard to tell. The fingers carding through his short hair and awed expression honestly could have been attributed to either thing. 

"You came for me," she whispered, somehow managing to sound surprised.

"Of course, I did. I promised I would, didn't I?"

A cool hand cupped his cheek. Her smile was radiant, regardless of her rough and tumble appearance. "You look gorgeous."

Planting a kiss to her palm, Yuri couldn't resist teasing, "You don't at the moment but you're still a sight for sore eyes." It said a lot about her mental state that she didn't even make a pass at taking the bait. Yuri found it hard to mind when she instead pressed her lips firmly, desperately to his own. 

They stood there, lost in each other for what felt like forever. Behind them, the others were discussing plans without them. Whatever they decided, Yuri was sure they could be caught up quickly. Anyone who tried to tear him away from his fiancé ever again was going to get a knife where the sun didn't shine. Speaking of the engagement bit...

Byleth lowered herself off of her tip toes when it became clear that Yuri was distracted by something. Meeting her cute inquisitive noise with another small peck, Yuri finally managed to pull the small velvet pouch out of his pocket. Hiding it from Byleth would have been pointless so he didn't bother, instead dumping the ring out into his palm in plain sight. For all his lack of tact and romance, she looked no less mystified than if he had gotten down on one knee. Her fingers traced the engravings with a rapt sort of attention that did funny things to Yuri's chest. Slipping that ring onto Byleth's finger felt like such a small gesture compared to what it symbolized but that was what he got for proposing unprepared in a tent in between rounds of glorious, mind blowing sex. Still, the care with which Byleth pressed her lips to that ring, smiling up at him with glassy eyes threatened to bring tears to his own eyes.

"I'm never letting you go ever again. You're stuck with me now," Yuri promised, pressing a kiss of his own to her forehead.

  
Smiling tearily, Byleth teased, "You fool. This was all just an elaborate ploy to improve upon our reunion in Trolde after Shambhala. You've fallen into my trap."

  
Yuri grinned helplessly, infinitely pleased by her ability to jest, whispering into her ear, "Oh trust me, the moment we win I'm going to drag you off to the nearest slightly hidden alcove and ravish you. We have a month's worth of love making to catch up on and I won't be satisfied until we make up for it and then some."

"You'll never be satisfied, you insatiable man."

"Damn straight," he grinned, running his nose affectionately across her temple.

  
"Sorry to interrupt your shameless flirting, but we should probably get going," Linhardt drawled, looking like he scarcely knew what the word sorry meant, let alone like he was actually apologetic. "Do you still need help walking, Byleth?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at the somewhat brazen offer. The woman in his arms smiled gratefully at the green haired boy, shaking her head. "I'll manage. Yuri can brace me. Thank you, Lin."

Whatever prickliness he was still exhibiting was dulled by the obvious affection in his gaze. Byleth had that effect on people, though even a fool could have guessed that there were layers to that kind of look. As it was, Yuri felt no shame from kissing his beloved so openly. Now, he sort of wanted to do it more. Though, that was more because he was petty than because he needed to stake a claim. Linhardt was far too smart a man to not recognize what had just occurred. Sadly, he was also notoriously uncaring for social rules and niceties.

This time at least, he accepted Byleth's polite dismissal and meandered back to the others. True to her word, Byleth was able to walk on her own for the most part. Leaning on him as they crossed the bridge was more for pleasure than necessity. Their close proximity meant that he could feel how she stiffened when Jeralt approached them. Yuri had always known that this conversation would be loaded, complicated. Not the sort one wanted to have so soon after being freed from death row and yet, this was all the time they had before they reached the point of no return. No one knew who would still be standing when the sun rose tomorrow. Yuri would do everything in his power to make sure this wasn't a "now or never" scenario...but he was only human.

Jeralt had the good sense to look a bit hesitant. "Hey Kiddo."

"Father," she greeted coolly, keeping her head held high and her arm wrapped around Yuri.

  
The last few weeks had given him a better understanding of Jeralt Eisner. For all his mistakes, the man truly adored his daughter. Yuri wouldn't overlook his insufficient way of showing it and the unfortunate side effects that had had on Byleth. Yet, he also couldn't fully fault the man. With such a difficult hand, shitty plays weren't surprising. As Yuri had told him as they stared at a blueprint of the monastery grounds long into the night once, what mattered most was what he did now to make up for it. Seeing the man obviously struggling to come up with words to say to her, Yuri had hope that he had taken his advice to hear. 

After a minute, the man ran a frustrated hand through his hand and sighed, "I'm sorry, By. I know it's not worth a damn now but I didn't intend for you to find out all this shit this way."

  
"You're right. It's a pretty worthless sentiment," Byleth agreed, not pulling her punches even when the man flinched at her severe tone. "You lied to me. You knew you were handing me over to someone who had bad intentions for me and you did it anyway. You didn't even properly warn me. I had to watch a friend of mom's warp her body into a demonic beasts and kill it myself. I didn't even know her name before that. Every horrific thing that has happened since coming to this damn place would have easier to handle had I known a single thing about myself, about Rhea, about you. I know you didn't have all the answers either but I thought we were a team." 

It was brutal, but all very true. No matter how raw that sort of verbal smack down must have made him feel, Yuri was pleased when Jeralt took it with as much grace as one could ask for. He never broke eye contact. Never ran from her criticism. Not to say he didn't look utterly miserable. He did. When she had said her piece, Jeralt hung his head. "I... didn't trust you enough. Running was easier but I fucked even that up. I would understand if, after all this, you want as little to do with me as you do Rhea."

The shock on his face when Byleth slapped him was almost as funny as his bewildered expression when she followed that up with a tight hug. Yuri smiled privately at the display, shrugging his shoulders when Jeralt looked at him for some sort of guidance. "I'm pissed at you. But, I still love you. And I know you love me. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. So, if you want to atone...then live. Live so that when this is all over, I can give you the dressing down you deserve."

  
"Ha. That's fair." Jeralt seemed a bit choked up but no one would judge him for it. "Claude, Edelgard and Dimitri told me about Sitri. I still haven't full sorted through how I feel about that, but...well, if Rhea thinks she can just waltz out of here after all she's done, she's dead wrong." Pulling away from their hug, the father and daughter shared a determined smile. "Let's go give her a piece of our minds."

  
Sensing that it was fine to insert himself into their small circle now, Seteth held up a hand. "Peace, Jeralt. Please. Hear me out. I know she's done unspeakable things. But I also understand why she's so desperate right now. Let us try to talk to her first. Perhaps if she realizes that she is alone in this venture, she will see reason."

  
"Or react as any cornered animal would," Shamir grumbled.

  
"That is precisely why we require your assistance Shamir!" Flayn begged. "If you, Alois and my brother all vouch for this plan, the other Knights will stand down. Maybe Rhea will talk to us then."

  
Yuri scoffed. "You're asking us to just forgive her and let bygones be bygones? After she tortured students, executed some of her own men and declared war on any one who stood against her? You must realize how unrealistic that is."

  
Seteth shook his head, "She will not go unpunished. The people will have their justice. But let that be decided diplomatically, not through a battle where both sides stand to lose hundreds of lives."

Could slimy nobles from the regions be trusted to make a decision that accurately accounted for the horrors they'd witnessed at that woman's command? Sure, they agreed to back the cause with money and men, but how many of the nobles themselves were standing out in that field? Bleeding for the country their children desperately wanted to see created. Yuri wouldn't need both his hands for that count, he was certain. This war was the brainchild of those directly impacted by these events. Yet, they would likely not be the ones delivering that punishment. There was no way that would fly with the army beyond these walls, dying for this cause. For all of Seteth's good intentions, it was tragically likely that hundreds already had died. Still, calling off the army was a good plan to prevent further losses. Eyeing the assembled crowd, Yuri wondered if they could be trusted to actually barter with her or if they'd simply lie and say they tried with her blood on their blades.

  
Of all of them, Yuri was surprised that Linhardt's expression was by far the most twisted with distaste at Seteth's pitch. Back when they fought together in Abyss, he had never tried to get to know Linhardt well, but he did pick up on his extreme hesitance to fight. Hapi had mentioned once that it was rare to meet a noble who valued the lives of others so strongly. Yuri tilted his head, unable to resist sating his curiosity. "And what of you? You're on board with this idea too, Linhardt?"

"Absolutely not." The bluntness of his response raised more than few eyebrows. Staring out into the distance, Linhardt's voice came out coldly. "I don't believe in killing. I hate it. Whatever petty desire for revenge I have wouldn't override that. The fact remains that Seiros's choke hold on this land is too complete and long standing to be erased so easily. So long as she draws breath, her followers will cling to the hope that she will rise again. Killing her isn't just the only way to end this war...it's symbolic. And frankly I doubt that she would just sit back and hand us Fódlan after all this effort. A ridiculous notion really."

It was a sound argument. So much so that even Seteth was struck wordless for a beat. Flayn was the first to find her voice.

"The reason for our delay in rising up against her was due in part to our family ties. She is my aunt. I love her dearly. For what bad she has done of late, there are many many things that she has also genuinely done out of the kindness of her heart." Looking to Jeralt, Flayn beseeched him. "Your survival had no alternative purpose to her. She merely did not want a good man like you to die. Her joy at you marriage to Sitri was real. Such is the bond that tie many of the Knights of Seiros to her as well. Just as you and Byleth are seeking to repair your bond after transgressions, so too do father and I wish to help her down a better path. Perhaps it will be more difficult, or even impossible, but we humbly beg that you try. And if it is so that she is truly unmoved by such mercy, then we cannot fault you for defending yourselves and your futures. Just...try. That is all we ask."

That entreaty would be hard to explain to their allies, no matter how heart felt. But, the room for plausible deniability did remain. Mercy had been a virtue so dear in the hearts of people like Yuri's mother. Kindhearted people who were often taken advantage of by the world around them. Yuri decided that he would not weigh in further on the subject. If Jeralt and Byleth chose to attempt a negotiation, Yuri would not argue. His sword would be poised to punish any betrayal of that gesture harshly, though. 

  
Not yet voicing an opinion, Byleth mused aloud, "Catherine and Cyril won't give up. Not until Rhea tells them to or they're dead. They're far too loyal."

  
"Cyril was sent into the field with the wyvern knights," Flayn pointed out. "Catherine, however, is likely with Rhea."

  
Alois and Shamir shared a glance, then Alois spoke up. "I agree with Seteth's plan. Hearing that Lady Rhea has done...such terrible things, it's quite the shock. All we have known to this point is her generosity and good will. The other Knights may agree to stand down if the threat to her is perceived to be gone."

"And take up arms again if they learn she was slain?" Byleth asked, arms crossed.

Seteth shook his head. "We will attend to that possibility if it arises. I should also add, knowing of her true power, it would likely be in your best interest to avoid a high stakes fight with Seiros. She is quite powerful."

A loud screech pierced the serious air around them. Yuri had almost forgotten that they were still on that nightmare of a bridge. A mutated bird swooped down at them, talons poised to rip the bridge apart and them with it. Before Shamir could even draw her bow, a gale of wind sliced the beast in half. As it's bleeding corpse fell into the valley below, all eyes turned to Linhardt, hand still outstretched and glimmering with magical aura. With an almost threatening glint in his eye, the boy met Seteth's gaze and claimed, "So are we." Before any of them could shake off their dumbfounded silence, Linhardt turned and waltzed towards the reception hall. "It would be wise to relocate. I sense that the magic surrounding the monastery has shifted."

Byleth reached for Yuri's hand as she followed behind the mage. She seemed significantly less thrown off by the savage display than he was. "Does that have anything to do with me, Lin?"

"No. The radius of the space distortion didn't even cover the entire cathedral. I'm referring to the wards protecting the monastery from the demonic beasts down below."

Seteth looked puzzled. "What? The runes for those were within the monastery walls. Surely we would know if the army breached the gates so soon."

"Constance, Balthus and Hapi went to turn off the controls for the dolls. They may have accidentally turned off the wards as well," Yuri postulated, not missing the furious look Seteth shot him before Flayn calmed him. 

Linhardt, unlike Seteth, actually laughed. "Oh splendid. No wonder the beasts have drawn closer. Hapi would lure them in like flies to a bonfire."

"I resent that, Linny," they heard called from the safety of the overhang. Yuri grinned at the sight of his pack looking a bit worse for wear, but otherwise unharmed, waiting for them. Hapi's palpable annoyance meant she was back in fighting shape, which was a relief. "And what the hell took you guys so long? We were about to play rock, paper, scissors to see who had to go tell you to get your asses moving."

"Strategy meeting," Yuri shrugged, happily accepting Balthus's slap on the back in greeting. The man wasted no time wrapping Byleth up in a tight hug. Hapi and Constance were practically hopping up and down, waiting for their turns. "We're gonna distract Catherine while Jeralt and Byleth offer a cease-fire with Rhea. Before you argue, tell me what's going on outside."

Constance, the most likely to argue who had been perfectly poised to do just that, deflated instantly when Byleth pulled her into an embrace next. "The power source for the dolls also formed a barrier around the monastery. As you can imagine, the demonic beasts found it prudent to investigate and pester us as we searched the rest of the premises. You'll be pleased to know that the armies have closed the gaps between them and converge on our location. It shan't be long before they reach the town."

"The fucking Almyran army showed up!" Balthus grinned, his ridiculous cheer almost infectious. "Dunno why the heck they wanna help us, but they did a number on the church's wyvern knights. No one knows wyvern fighting like an Almyran."

Hapi gave him a deadpan stare from her comfortable position in Byleth's hold. "B...Claude invited them. They were that ace up his sleeve he said was coming over the throat. He literally told us this before the round-table."

"Oh. I wasn't payin' attention."

"You? Drifting off during a strategy meeting? Incomprehensible, Balthus," Byleth teased, earning herself a hair ruffle in return. Yuri felt his chest fluttering happily as he watched Byleth fit herself seamlessly back into their fold. The way the others glued themselves to her was likely as much of an acknowledgement of her appearance as they were going to give. No matter how skilled she was, Byleth could hardly stand and she had no weapon aside from the knife Flayn had passed her. Even if they did swing by the armory and get her better clothing and a sword, the chances of her using it effectively were laughable. If this went south, Yuri would have Jeralt take her and run. So long as Byleth was alive, they'd manage.

Seteth, Alois and Shamir set off to go address the knights. Linhardt admitted that he could not be trusted not to simply blast Rhea with a wind spell the moment he saw her. Flayn suggested they clear away from of the demonic beasts from the monastery grounds. It would be both useful and a good way to let the boy vent. Before he went, Linhardt sent one final look back at Byleth.

"Her target is you. As it always has been. Keep your distance and if you need to, lock yourself in another pocket. I'll come get you when it's safe." Linhardt's smile was laced with worry. Not at all as reassuring as he likely meant for it to be.

It was enough to make Byleth smile anyway. "I'll never grow used to this new, dependable Linhardt."

Chuckling at her joke, he waved a hand. "With a bit of luck, you'll have eons to adjust to it. Stay safe."

And with that, they all set off to tend to their tasks. Things had gone smoothly thus far, all considered. Part of Yuri was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but maybe luck was on their side in this whole mess. It had never failed him before. Optimism was a luxury he had never felt worthy of, but with his family at his side and tons of allies to back them up, their chances felt good.

* * *

When the barrier fell, she knew that it was finally time.

The passage of time often felt transient to one that had lived as long as Seiros had. Humans agonized over the years flying by, when centuries sometimes passed for her without any notable change. These last few moons had been among the most eventful in recent history. It was a welcome relief, despite the turmoil. After so long with naught but her failures and what little remained of her family to keep her company, progress felt splendid. Seiros caressed the wooden coffin before her lovingly. So close. So tantalizing close to the end now. No, not the end. The Beginning. Soon, all would be right in her world and the years left before her would cease being so daunting of a prospect.

"Lady Rhea," Catherine called, voice grim. "They'll be coming soon."

Smiling back at the woman, Seiros beckoned her forward. It warmed her heart how easily Catherine came to her. Such a trusting woman. So precious. "Are you frightened, Catherine?" The blond appeared almost chastised by her question. "There is no shame in it, dear. You need not hide from me."

Her blue eyes roamed the lid of the wooden box warily, trepidation clear as day in how she held herself. Yet, what Seiros adored most about the woman was her ability to push passed herself. For her duty, for her bonds, for her loved ones.

"It's not me I'm worried about."

Ah. Of course. That was very much like her as well. More concerned about Seiros herself, a near immortal being, than her own fragile human life. Never again would she know such rapt devotion. My, how she adored this girl.

"You need not fear for my sake. Trust in me and know what our actions will lead to a glorious victory. A new age for this forsaken land and its pitiful inhabitants. I am sure of it."

"Of course, Lady Rhea."

When Catherine lowered her head in prayer, Seiros could only smile proudly and join her in it. So many of the new acolytes fell victim to the belief that the Goddess would only hear their pleas should they stand in the cathedral, before the alter, with the exact right words for her to think them worthy. The mother that Seiros had known was nothing like that. She was the sort to stop along the side of the road to speak with a traveling merchant, weary from the journey, to lift his spirits. Her love for her people was boundless, expressed in all manners of gestures from grand speeches to complimenting a young girl's hair. Her mother could hear their whimpers as they awoke with nightmares no matter how soft, and had no qualms about settling into their own beds alongside them. She had wept during the cleansing of Agarthia, wishing it had not have been necessary.

That woman, the Sothis she had always tried to teach her followers to believe in, would hear your prayers from any place. She needed no praises or offerings. Only for you to love her as she wanted to love you. Basking in her mother's presence again was not just her personal goal, but something she hoped would benefit all of the world. Only then would they realize the flaws in their ways. Perhaps Byleth had been right. Perhaps Seiros had never succeeded in guiding the people as her mother would have.

If anything, that was all the more reason to yearn for her presence.

As the echoing of footsteps ascending the stairs reached them, Seiros knew that this conflict had finally reached its climax. Before long, this would be over. It would be such a sweet relief.

Catherine required no prompting. Brandishing Thunderbrand, her beloved Knight crossed the chamber to face their guests. Her foes did not do her the disservice of requesting she stand down. That would have been an insult of the highest order in Catherine's mind. Instead, Balthus and Yuri leapt forward to engage her without any need for words. Magic licked at the corners of the room, supporting the melee fighters from afar. No matter how many faced down Catherine, it would not deter her. If their goal was to defeat her, they would have to bleed for it.

She continued her prayers, only half listening to the battle raging behind her. It was the pair of footsteps, one heavy and armored while the other was almost inaudible, approaching her that finally captured her attention.

"It's over, Rhea. Seteth has gone to appeal to the Knights. It's just you and Catherine now."

An entreaty. How curious. She could not help but wonder if the army dying by the hundreds out in the field knew that Jeralt was offering her an out. Some among their ranks would applaud such bold optimism and good faith. Others, the Riegan brat for example, would riot over such an outcome. Did Byleth agree to this plan? The vermin from Abyss? Jeralt, even? Such a ploy was surely Seteth's doing. A final olive branch from a man who was too conflicted to truly pick a side.

Jeralt grew tired of her silence. "Look, just surrender. If you give up now, you can defend your position in court. Explain yourself. There's no need to carry on this way."

Running her fingers along the coffin's edge, Seiros allowed herself a bitter smile. Human beings really were odd creatures. She would have expected this from some, but not from Jeralt. His prowess in battle was renowned. She had witnessed it many times with her own eyes. This man was not the sort to offer surrender to an enemy that had yet to bare its neck. And yet, perhaps that could only mean that his affection for her had not run dry. The thought pleased her. Her own blood ran through Jeralt's veins now, whether he acknowledged that fact with the appropriate severity or not. He was of her coven, a part of her family. Knowing that he would not be so quick to violence against he was a welcomed relief.

Though, his very presence in this room screamed of insolence that should be sorely punished.

Growling, Jeralt raised his voice, finally frustrated. "Is this what you think Sitri would have wanted?"

Seiros gave her prize one last fleeting, hopeful glance, then turned finally to face the souls before her. Oh the ways she could bring about that punishment. Horrors that could break even the unyielding Blade Breaker skirted through her mind seductively. Smiling softly to herself, Seiros dismissed them. No amount of physical pain she could inflict would be sufficient. Besides, the due course of this battle would be torture enough. 

"Sitri wasn't worthy. I had high hopes for Byleth but it would seem they were for naught." Seiros eyed the girl. Pale, sunken cheeks, dark rings around her eyes. The poor thing looked exhausted. Her gaze, however, still held that familiar spark of defiance. Weeks of torment had done naught but sharpened that hatred into refined point. It was no matter. For all the girl seemed to crave a conclusion, to crave vengeance, her body would not permit it. "But all is well. Fortune has smiled upon me. This time will be the last. I'm sure of it." Byleth's eyes narrowed, body crouching down into a defensive position despite her weakness. if nothing else, Seiros could never say she didn't admire this vessel. With a clear voice and calm mind, Seiros called out, "Catherine."

Despite their overwhelming numbers, the Ashen Wolves had yet to fell their opponent. It was not surprising. Catherine was a capable warrior even without Thunderbrand. With a reason to fight, a good measure of desperation, and her Relic at her side, the woman was neigh unstoppable. Besides, the children hadn't been out for blood. Their concern had been separating Catherine from her side, protecting Byleth and Jeralt long enough to negotiate. That much was readily apparent.

It was a tactical error Seiros would gladly see be their last.

At her directive, Catherine lowered her sword, strapping it to her back. Seiros could see the confusion on the faces of her enemies. The Wolves hesitated, unsure if this retreat meant surrender had been accepted. Even the Eisners faltered, the small sliver of hope that they could walk away without a fight clouding their minds.

"Thank you Lady Rhea. For giving me a new purpose," her most trusted Knight proclaimed, face void of all but pride. Some fear must have lingered in her heart somewhere. Yet, as Seiros expected, it did not give her pause. Such a good child. From her days as an academy student until now, Seiros had never known a more dedicated servant. Giving the girl sanctuary was no trouble, but Seiros would eternally be grateful for the sweat, blood and tears shed to repay that small kindness. Of all the children she had come to love over the years, she would miss this one the most.

"No, thank you Catherine. The Goddess will reward you in the next life."

Seiros did not need to watch as Catherine pulled out a small vial and drank the contents in one fluid motion. It had been ages since she had made the brew, but its effects were not something she could ever forget. The snapping of bones and stretching of flesh beyond its normal means. The blade at the woman's back sung as it responded to the blood of its wielder, molding into a long, jagged spine. This particular beast was unique, much like the woman it originate from. Long, deadly claws and a lean, powerful body making for a speedy monster. The cry it released was harrowing. Pain, anguish, but also resignation. Had Catherine refused this order, Seiros would not have taken offense. That was never in the cards, though. Not for her most loyal subject. 

She wanted to laugh at the shock and disgust on their faces. What she wouldn't give to peer into their minds for just a moment. What was most horrific to them: the beast itself, her willingness to transform, or the knowledge that if they could not best the woman easily then this form would likely slay them? Already their eyes flit back and forth like flies, racing to come up with a solution for the nightmare before them. The element of surprise really did make all the difference on the field of battle. Throw your opponents off balance and you could separate their forces, disorient their generals...

And even capture key strategic points without any interference.

Byleth did not have enough wherewithal to struggle as Seiros grabbed her by her hair, yanking the young woman back into the circle of her arms. Once, this embrace may have been a sweet thing. A loving gesture. Now, she held a blade firmly against the woman's throat, a thin line of blood smearing the silver lined sword. Her cry of surprise was muffled by the beast's snarls, launching itself at the mages ruthlessly. This was all too easy.

Jeralt was not quite as completely distracted as his comrades. "Byleth!"

The man brandished his lance, face scrunched up in a scowl that Seiros was unused to seeing directed at her. A pity. The part of her that still loved him ached to see him cross with her. But she could not stop now. Not for him. Not for Byleth. Not for anyone or anything.

His was not the only gaze she had earned. While his focus was still engrossed in dodging Catherine's claws and covering for his friends, Yuri's violet eyes drilled into her from afar. If looks could kill, she would be ripped to shreds. So different from the pleasant suck up facade he had shown her before. Just another spirit that Seiros would have loved to crush beneath her heel. And another bird to be shot down with the same stone. Even if those brats did defeat Catherine, they likely would not be without substantial injury. Seiros could handle them when the time was right. Jeralt too would be a fight she could endure if needed. 

It would be most comforting to not have the need at all, though.

"Apologies, old friend. I simply cannot allow you to interfere. Farewell, Jeralt." With a wave of her hand and a whisper under her breath, Seiros engulfed the mercenary in a beam of light, banishing him from the room. The woman in her arms gasped and jerked in her hold when the man disappeared from sight.

"Father!"

Tightening her grasp, Seiros admonished the desperate and hopeless retaliation of the girl. "Fear not, Child. I have not harmed him. He will live to regret tainting you with the cheap idea of freedom. Of choice. Had he just left you with me, where you belonged, things may have ended up differently."

Byleth turned in her arms, lashing out with shaking limbs. Punches. Kicks. Thrashes of her head. The anger boiling inside of her leaked out through her words. "They wouldn't have," Byleth cursed. "I am Byleth Eisner. Not Sothis. Not anyone else. Me!"

Looking down at her with a sad expression, Seiros acknowledged. "You're right, girl. You're not Sothis. And thus, you are useless to me."

The rebuttal on her lips vanished in a gasp before she could find the words. Their eyes were locked intimately as Seiros sank her claws deep into the girl's rib cage. The flesh parted easily, almost sickeningly so. It reminded Seiros that humans were frail creatures. Further and further she pushed until she reached her goal, sharped fingertips brushing the circular emblem magically bound to her unbeating heart. Distantly, Seiros heard an enraged scream echo through the room. Nothing other than this moment could hold her attention, though. Those lovely eyes, a mix of purple and blue that entranced her from the moment they first blinked open, glared into her own. So brave, despite the circumstances. Byleth coughed wretchedly, spitting the blood that bubbled up onto Seiros's face. It was still warm. Just as warm as the wound in her own stomach where Byleth jammed her dagger, twisting and gouging, hoping to dislodge her claws. That spark of rebellion would stay lit until her body cooled on the floor of these chambers. What a comforting thought.

"A futile attempt, Child. But I applaud your efforts. You've lived a good life, I hope. No matter how much I wish things could have been different, I at least am happy that you walked a path without regrets. Go now. Join your mother. Goddess preserve you."

She did not belabor it. Grasping the Crest stone firmly, she ripped it from Byleth's chest in a clean motion. The splatter of blood against the floor was louder than the pained moan the girl gave. From the corner of her eye, Seiros could see that Yuri had broken away from the fight, racing towards them with wild abandon. Killing him would be a simple thing. In many ways, it would be a blessing. Pushing Byleth's quickly fading body towards him, Seiros rejoiced in his tormented cry as he dropped his sword and caught her in his arms. The blood painted him glorious red in seconds. Death would be too kind a way to rebuke the child for his treachery. Better to let him live with his failures so that he too could know the pain living in her chest every day since the Red Canyon. 

Panic only stilled his hands for a moment before the telltale signs a recover spell illuminated the space between his fingers. It would do him no good. There was no way to remove the stone without damaging her heart. No way to reach her heart without lacerating her lungs. Seiros watched as tears ran down his face, dripping from his nose onto Byleth's chest and felt nothing. No sympathy for the anguish in his voice as he begged her to stay with him. Not even relief or joy as she held the key to her victory in her hands.

"Not again. Please no. Not again. I can't lose you again, By. Fuck. Please open your eyes."

Turning from them, Seiros approached the dais again. Her blood soaked hands streaked the coffin's lid as she pushed it onto the floor with a heavy thud. Inside was her salvation. The 14th vessel. Finding the young Agarthian woman down in the prison had been a hidden gem. Unsightly as they were, their people were steeped in old magic, built so much more resiliently then the average human being. Her mother's power had been overwhelming for naive bodies, warping their shape and melting their insides. Artificial bodies simply lacked some unknown feature necessary for life. Sitri had improved over time, but never quite gained a full range of emotion. Byleth had been the optimal subject. Seiros had been so certain that she would be the one to succeed where all others failed. Her ability to access Sothis's magic had been so promising. Not just in short bursts but recently in a sustained protective mechanism. No other subject had come that tantalizingly close. Sadly, the girl's misplaced righteousness ruined everything.

This body, Seiros knew, would be different. Byleth's blood already had been infused into its veins, the Crest of Flames melding beautifully into it. Under her magic, whatever personality the poor wretch had had would be easily overridden. All that remained was the heart. Pushing her fist into the chest cavity, Seiros pressed her mother's heart, the Crest Stone of the Sword of the Creator, tightly against the slowly beating heart of Kronya. The spell she whispered under her breath urged the muscle to take firm hold of the stone, allowing her to remove her hand and close the wound. Coating the body in healing magic, Seiros kept a watchful eye on the Sword of the Creator, held loosely in the woman's lax hand. 

"Rejoice mother," she smiled, brushing a hand affectionately over the pale, sleeping face. "I've found you a new vessel. A better one. So many years since I last gazed upon your face. Since we last spoke. Now, please, come back to me."

Around her, the sounds of Catherine's roars still tore through the air. The air sang with the intensity of the magic in the air, lighting, ice and wisps of dark magic still present. The brawler's grunts had also yet to be silenced.

Most of all, she could hear a small, sobbing voice pleading with a corpse on the floor.

"By. Byleth," Yuri was cut off by a wail, curled so far over his beloved's body that Rhea could almost not see it anymore. Her eyebrows raised at the name of her mother falling from his lips. "Sothis! Please. Help. I can't...By's..."

Still no response from the vessel. The heart yet beat. Slow but steady. No change in magical energy nor movement. Worry clenched Seiros's chest. "Wake up," she cooed, carding her hand through the still ginger hair. 

"Wake up!" Yuri cried, voice cracking from overuse.

And then, a pair of ethereal green eyes shot open and the room was submerged in a blinding glow. Seiros could not withstand it's brilliance, blinded by the unexpected explosion of energy. The audience chamber, so recently deafeningly loud, fell to silence in an instant. The beam faded after only a moment, leaving Seiros with hazy vision and a ringing in her ears. In the light's absence, Catherine's ruined, human body was lying on the floor, motionless. The prone body of Kronya was missing from it's place in the coffin.

And Yuri and Byleth were gone.

* * *

Edelgard could still remember the first time she walked through the front gates of Garreg Mach monastery. Newly resolved to tear down the system the monastery represented with her own bloody, sore hands if she needed to, even she could not deny the ethereal beauty of the grounds. It was like something out of a story book, which was a compliment considering her position as the future Emperor of Adrestia. There was just something so serene and surreal about the place. Every moon she would leave on some bidding of the church and return to that same warring sense of awe and disgust.

In a strange way, it was a relief for that feeling to have been trampled down into nothing. This time, as she returned from time away from the monastery, she brought with her an army. Only inevitable, given her larger goals, but still somehow bittersweet. One day, she hoped this place could heal from this. That the blood splattered walls would once again return to brilliant white, that the smoke would clear from the air, the houses be rebuilt after the fire set to them. For now, this was the single most important battlefield she had ever stood on. She had come too far to fail now. Claude and Dimitri, who lingered close to her, likely felt the same. It was reassuring.

Their vanguard had pushed through the center of the chaos, cutting the enemy forces into sections. It was both a display of their own strength and a tactical decision. So long as they remained separated, it would be easier to thin their numbers. While their rally had been largely successful so far, the true victory had been the bizarre dolls shutting down so soon after the battle began. To boot, many of the beasts had flown off to assault the academy themselves. Dimitri had worried over Hapi's safety, knowing that it was her presence they were likely drawn to. Edelgard merely refuted that the Ashen Wolves were remarkably resilient, a fact that Claude looked a bit perturbed by but did not argue against. More than anyone, he knew what strategic miracles they were capable of.

Getting this far was one thing, but moving forward would likely prove to be another. They had no idea what the situation inside the monastery was. How many soldiers yet remained? Who was friend and who was foe at this point? Edelgard did notice some of the Knights retreating as they approached. Whether that was in retreat or to lie in wait, she was unsure. 

It was Seteth's presence, waiting patients with no weapon in sight upon the stairs that told her maybe their fight was closer to completion than she thought.

"Seteth," Dimitri greeted, lowering his weapon with a smile. The obvious hope in his voice would have made Hubert retch, but was swiftly becoming one of Edelgard's favorite things about him. "I'm glad you are unharmed. Are we to take this as a sign that you come in peace?"

"Yes, you may. Flayn and I have done our best to mitigate the conflict from within the church until this point. Before you say anything Claude, I will be the first to acknowledge that our efforts were not very fruitful."

Claude's smirk had sharp edges. "Well, at least you're self aware enough to admit it. What of the Knights? And the Ashen Wolves?"

"Alois, Shamir and myself have convinced as many of the Knights as possible to retreat. They were instructed to wait in the dorms and academy for further instructions. The Ashen Wolves and Jeralt have gone to meet Rhea and Catherine in the audience chamber."

"And Teach?" The brunette's anxiety was tangible, leaking off him in waves. Seteth surely expected his inquiry, doing his best to calm him with a gentle smile.

"She is safe."

It was like cutting a puppet's strings. All the tension that had held Claude's broken pieces taut these past few months flowed away, leaving only a tired boy who had come frighteningly close to losing everything. A part of her couldn't help but be a bit bitter. Thus far, the Golden Deer and Blue Lions houses remained safe and mostly whole. It was her own group that was missing one. A fact that she would never let herself forget. While she was wrapped in her own self pity, Dimitri placed a hand on Claude's shoulder, the two sharing some words quietly.

Looking to Seteth herself, Edelgard noticed Shamir and Alois descend the stairs to join them. "Forgive my bluntness, but if the others are confronting Rhea at this moment, why have you not joined them? Surely more forces would be advantageous."

The hesitation in Seteth's response made her wary. As did his easy acceptance of their coup. The man was Cichol, Saint of old and brother to Seiros. Surely, betraying her would not come naturally. While she did not want to believe they had been misled, it certainly wouldn't have been unexpected. This was war, after all.

"I asked Jeralt to allow her a chance to surrender. With an army the size of yours at her doors and only Catherine left at her side, I hoped she would see reason."

Damnit. This was a variable she had not been prepared for. If she had known Seteth was the agent aiding Jeralt from inside Garreg Mach, she would have insisted upon them not making any deals. This softhearted foolishness was going to be costly. "She won't. Not when she's this close. The best strategy would be to remove Byleth from her reach and defeat her before she could regroup."

At the very least, Claude seemed to share that concern. "I agree. This really isn't the time for gestures of good faith to one's enemy. You guys did manage to get Teach out of there right?" Seteth was silent, glancing down at his feet. Fear gripped her heart as she realized what that meant. Claude snarled at the man, still not wanting to break what little hope he had just regained. "Well?!"

It was Shamir that answered. "She went with the Ashen Wolves and Jeralt. Yuri said they would guard her, but she's weak and wasn't armed."

Closing her eyes tightly, Edelgard tried to center herself. It was difficult, made even more so by Claude's explosive reaction. When planning their assault, Edelgard had always accounted for the possibility that Byleth would have perished before they reached Garreg Mach. Knowing now that she had been led to what may have been her death was still hard to stomach. Licking her dry and cracked lips, she announced, "Then we may as well act under the assumption that Byleth is no more."

"El, you give up too quickly," Dimitri chided, trying his best to hold Claude back from throttling Seteth. Or anyone else.

"It is not the outcome I would desire either but we must stay realistic. Seiros's goal has been and will always be to revive Sothis. If Byleth is currently her vessel, it is unlikely that she will survive the process of transferring her to another body." 

She did not need to see Claude to feel his glare drilling holes into her body. Were it anyone else, she would have ignored him. Being there bearer of bad news was hard at the best of times. Claude's instability was no excuse for his lack of restraint. Yet, this was not just anyone. This was her dearest friend and someone she could not stand to let fester in his own rage and heartache. Placing a firm hand upon his heaving shoulder, Edelgard gave him advice she herself would want.

"Take that rage and direct it at Seiros, Claude. Destroying her is still our main goal."

"Wait just a moment!" Seteth interjected, brows narrowed angrily. "They may yet manage to convince her. We have had no sign saying contrary as of yet."

If she really did exist yet in this world, then the Goddess was a rather funny woman. Before Seteth had even finished his gripe, a flash of light from behind them drew their eyes. They heard Jeralt Eisner land in the bushes before they could see him. Under other circumstances it would have been humorous. A fully grown man thrown into a shrub like a rag doll was quite the sight. This man, however, was meant to be defending his daughter and negotiating with a madwoman at the moment so there was little mirth to be found. Any attempts he had at righting himself were derailed by his sudden need to vomit. Edelgard knew what he was experiencing. Being warped over a long distance was hard to stomach even if you consented to it. Alois rushed to his side, steadying the shaking man.

"Captain! What happened? How did you get here?"

Wiping his mouth with his bracer, Jeralt managed to grit out. "R-Rhea. Has Byleth. They're in the audience chamber."

Heaving a sigh out through her nose, Edelgard turned to the others once more. "I suppose that addresses your question, Seteth. And confirms our fears concerning Byleth."

"What of Catherine?" Dimitri wondered, allowing Claude to slump against him, still obviously alight with fury.

The mercenary merely shook his head. "She turned into a demonic beast. A huge one. Even if she turns back..."

How cruel. Turning even Catherine, her most loyal follower, into a beast as a trump card. Not that Edelgard wasn't intimately aware of what that particular brand of desperation tasted like. Dimitri cursed, burying his face in Claude's hair. Even through his own emotional tantrum, Claude easily moved to comfort the boy, wrapping an arm around his back. 

Edelgard likely wasn't imagining the tremble in Shamir's voice as she asked, "What now?

It was funny how Claude could manage to soothe another and spit such hellfire at the same time. Truly, his range of emotions was impressive. "Now we march back up there and kill that wench. By any means necessary."

"Hold Claude. There is another element of this that I did not wish to consider, but we may be forced to now." This had been among the list of scenarios that she and Hubert had dubbed as worst case, but now with the knowledge that Byleth was compromised, they very likely would reach that stage sooner rather than later. "If Seiros succeeded in reviving Sothis, we may be up against not only the Immaculate One, but also the Goddess herself."

Edelgard could not blame the others for blanching at the thought. History told plenty of tales of the feats accomplished by Sothis's magical might. Many, like Ailell, were fiction, spun and twisted by Those That Slither. Yet, some must have been true. This was a variable none of them would have dared account for. It would also spell their destruction without a proper counter. A being capable of controlling time and space was bad enough. Her other capabilities would only add to their downfall. 

Dimitri seemed pensive, asking, "You think that Lady Sothis would join her?"

"It is a possibility we cannot ignore. Though, if we were curious as to the likelihood of such an outcome, perhaps you could give us some insight into her character, Saint Cichol."

Part of their discussion in the Alliance had been centered around the truth of the Saints. The fact that Shamir and Alois did not flinch meant only that he had chosen to come clean to them as well. When Seteth did speak, his voice was full of conviction. "My mother was a good woman. She loved her children, human and Nabatean. And only wanted the best for us."

"Yet she razed all of Agarthia to the ground when it's people declared their desire for independence," Edelgard pointed out.

Her accusation was met with only firm correction, no anger. "No. She destroyed Agarthia because it sought world domination. Countless other civilizations were lost to those monsters' experiments and expansion of their territory. That is not something the Agarthians would whisper so willingly in your ear though, Edelgard, so it doesn't surprise me that you were ignorant to it."

No, she supposed it wasn't. Of course, it did not surprise her to hear that the Nabateans had their own side of the tale. It was a prospective she had not heard before, given that no one who knew it would field such inquiry without harsh investigation into how she knew to ask. Were they invested in an academic discussion, she would have argued that the decision to destroy an entire civilization was damnable either way and had led to much of the retaliation they'd seen over the years. There were better times for such thoughts, though.

Claude was more than willing to keep pressing the point, much to her delight. "Question remains: who would she align herself with in this conflict? Because if she is against us, we lose. Not much we can do against the power to raze a culture to the ground overnight."

Seteth did not seem to disagree. "It would depend on many things. Whose point of view she was exposed to, for one thing Whether she has the same personality in a new body for another. Suffice it to say, I do not know."

That answer was not exactly comforting.

Their chance to ponder the possibility was interrupted by the upper tower exploding in the distance. The blast carried bricks far enough to strike at nearby rooftops, shaking the entire ground so hard, Edelgard nearly lost her footing. It did not take a genius to deduce that that had been the same building housing the audience chamber. Before she could even wonder what that meant for the occupants, the giant, horrid form of the Immaculate One emerged from the wreckage. Rhea tore through the sky, shouting in a shrieking voice, "FIND HER. PURGE THE LAND OF THESE WORMS. BURN IT ALL TO THE GROUND IF YOU MUST. I WANT HER LOCATED, WHATEVER THE COST!" 

At the tail end of her command, the beast released a trail of fire upon the armies below. She burned a hole through their forces, allowing the Holy Army of Seiros to unite once more. Panic sent Edelgard's heart pounding in her chest. Please, she prayed to no one and anyone that would listen. Please let none of their friends have been in the path of that attack. Seeing that form in all its glory and horror, Edelgard was reminded harshly that the chances of them escaping this nightmare without heavy losses were slim.

Shouting from behind them drew Seteth's attention. The man rushed back up the stairs, embracing Flayn tightly as she leapt into his arm with a cry. Knowing that the girl had not been harmed was lovely, but there was something a bit more interesting to Edelgard standing there above them.

"Linhardt," she breathed, eyes wet from the smoke, her fear and truthfully from the relief of seeing him unharmed. For so long, the ends of her goals had been enough to justify any means. No sacrifice would be too great. Yet, she could not deny that something shattered in her chest when Caspar returned to the Empire, gutted by the apparent loss of their friend. They had not often agreed. Out of everyone, Linhardt had been most openly critical of her desires and dreams. No matter Hubert's thoughts on the matter, Edelgard loved that about the Hevring heir. She needed people like him and Dimitri by her side to smack her when she was out of line. Thinking that Remire had been the last time they would ever speak and knowing it had been an argument was excruciating.

Edelgard almost wanted to laugh at the clear, cool indifference on the boy's face as he came to meet her. Dressed sloppily in an old white shirt and splattered with blood, Linhardt looked for all the world as if he could find a nice patch of unburnt grass and take a nap. Giving her a wry smile, almost fond if she squinted, Linhardt shook his head at her. "Save your sappiness for someone who needs it, Your Majesty. I'm alive. It's nice to see you, too. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Always so blunt. Like a blow to the back of the head. Nodding, Edelgard accepted the out she had been given from what was likely to be an embarrassing display of emotion. "Very well. Status report. What happened?"

"Well, the tower blew up and Seiros turned into her dragon form, for starters. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine."

Jeralt, who had finally regained his balance, spoke next. "Any word from Byleth? Or the Wolves?"

"I am afraid not," Flayn denied, still clutching her father. "We heard screaming when the collapse started but nothing since. We came straight here after that." 

"Damnit," Jeralt hissed, shaking off the comforting hand Alois attempted to lay on him. As was the case with the rest of them, the uncertainty was likely most frustrating. Edelgard could relate. Still, they had an army with renewed vigor moving against their own and a dragon to slay. 

Just as she was about to suggest they return to the fray, Linhardt waved at something further down the path. "There you all are. Good. We were wondering if you made it out."

To say that Constance, Balthus and Hapi were a mess would be putting it lightly. Constance had a nasty gash running up the length of her arm, staining her armor bright crimson. Balthus was limping, yet also carrying an unconscious Hapi in his arms. Assuming the girl was alive, their injuries were nothing Flayn and Linhardt couldn't fix. Most pressing was the absence of two of their key members.

Ever the optimist, Dimitri grinned, "You're alright! Thank goodness."

Setting Hapi down gently on the ground so that Flayn could attend to her, Balthus huffed out as cheerful of a laugh as he could manage. "Sure are. It was a close one, though. If Hapi hadn't grabbed us and warped us out of there, we would have been Ashen Pancakes."

Linhardt asked the question so clearly on Jeralt's mind for him as the boy began healing Constance. "Where are Byleth and Yuri?"

Constance and Balthus shared a glance, neither of them speaking. For a moment, Balthus's mouth worked fruitlessly, but the words never came to him. Constance found her voice when he could not. "In truth, we are not certain. They disappeared right before Seiros transformed."

"Disappeared? What do you mean disappeared?" Claude's tone was severe, frustrated. He was not alone in that feeling.

"Exactly what the lady said. This crazy green light blinded the shit out of all of us. Turned Catherine back into a human...or, well, the remains of one. Then when we looked for the Boss and By, they just weren't there anymore."

Flayn moved onto Balthus's leg, addressing the man as she worked. "Is it possible they also warped away? Byleth is capable of advanced magic, able to bend the fabric of time and space even. Maybe they..."

"Impossible. Byleth was in no condition to be casting magic," Constance interrupted. It was hard to tell if her pessimistic reaction was due to the heavy beams of the sun beating down upon her or a legitimate appraisal of the situation. Edelgard was inclined to believe both might be true.

"What does that mean?!" Claude hissed, hands tugging savagely at his hair. "Stop beating around the bush and spit it out already! What happened to Teach?!"

An unfamiliar voice answered them from the entrance to the monastery. "Neither she nor Yuri will be joining us." 

Atop the stairs was a woman, the likes of which Edelgard had never seen before. Her hair was a deep, brilliant green, cut short and choppy, curling around her pointed ears. The clothes upon her body were a touch scandalous, but the old looking regalia denoted some level of high standing. Most striking was the confident way she held herself, posture remarkably perfect and almost regal looking. Edelgard felt then, nonsensically, as if she should respect this person. It was such a strong inclination, yet also so absurd. Around her, her allies were similarly thrown off by the appearance of this stranger. None more so than Flayn and Seteth, who gaped openly at the newcomer.

Claude was the least effected of them, snapping right back into his previous tirade. "Where are they then?"

"Calm yourself, Deerling. Their location is of little consequence to us until the battle at hand has been resolved. I'll happily take you to them when this is over. For now, I ask for your cooperation."

While her words were placating, her tone was suspiciously close to being teasing. Rather bold for a woman who spoke to the Duke of the Alliance without being acquainted. 

Linhardt stood from his spot next to Constance, recognition flaring in his face. "Ah. I see what's happened. How fascinating. Would I correct in assuming you mean to help us defeat Seiros, milady?"

The woman smiled gently down at him, a hint of sadness in her tone. "Indeed. Though she has a pure desire in her heart, her pursuit of such a wish is misguided and cruel. I cannot allow this to go on any longer."

There was something about the intimacy in her speech, how she seemed to know them without them knowing her. Not to mention Flayn and Seteth's continued stunned silence. And the sword at her hip was undeniably the Sword of the Creator. The solution to this riddle that her mind came up with felt preposterous. And yet, had they not been discussing this as a possible course of events not moments ago? Logically, there was no one else she could be. Even as she came to that conclusion, Edelgard hesitated to voice her theory aloud.

Ever the kind for propriety and politeness, Dimitri was the one to poke at the question on all of their minds. "Beg pardon, but I don't believe we've been introduced."

Green eyes widened as if suddenly remembering herself. The woman's laugh was loud, but pleasant sounding. "Ah yes. You humans attach much value to the idea of names. I had forgotten. Excuse my rudeness." Fixing them all with a welcoming smile and a small bow, the woman before them greeted them at last, "I am The Beginning, but your people call me Sothis. It is good to finally meet all of you in person."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have one more real chapter left, then a short epilogue and Pack Dynamics will be complete. I do have several shorter fic sequels I will want to write. I'm starting a hospital rotation tomorrow morning at 8 am so it may be a bit until the next chapter is posted. Writing the ending of stories is always the hardest part in my mind, so bear with me as I try to bring this beast of a fic to the finish line. I've never written anything this ambitious before and your support as I've tried has meant literally everything to me.
> 
> I know this chapter is a bit of a heart wrenching one, but hang in there. As you can tell from the fact that Byleth appears in later stories in this series, she will be ok. I don't want to disguise that fact. The how is the real question.
> 
> Feel free to shoot me any side stories or prompts you'd like addressed in sequel fics. If I can fit them in, I totally will. Love y'all.


	12. And miles to go before I sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What would you give up to unwrite this cruel fate of hers?"
> 
> "Anything," he replied, without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends. It has been an amount of time. Knowing that this chapter is in fact 24k long, I hope that you'll forgive me. I did consider splitting it up. There is really not a great spot to do that sadly. Anyway, the end is finally here. And it's long.
> 
> I do have a pretty brief epilogue to upload too, but I will give y'all some time to digest this first.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy the last real chapter of Pack Dynamics!

Death was a very old acquaintance of Yuri's. A constant companion that floated in and out of view like a particularly troublesome fly. He wasn't so pompous as to claim he had a unique frustration with the concept of death. The world they lived in was drenched in danger even before the threat of war loomed over their horizon. Maybe that was how it would always be, no matter how much time passed. No matter who sat upon the throne and barked orders at the masses. It was a depressing notion, but not one that could be denied. 

Despite how much he detested death, it really was easy. Memories of the days he spent ravaged by fever and illness were hazy at best. Waking had been agony, fighting his sickness excruciating. But dying? Dying would have been simple. Like falling asleep but far more permanent. Yuri knew there must have been ways to die and fear the inevitable outcome, but he had been spared that horror. A small mercy. Yuri did not recall the process of dying to the plague. That was not true of his mother. Every glimpse he had gotten of her as he struggled to maintain consciousness was filled with the sinking feeling that he was hurting her. How he had regretted making her weep like that. When the elder's medicine had restored him to a fragment of his normal self, he had apologized to her in a quiet, scared voice. Ever the kind, doting type, she had waved him off and placed a kiss to his gross, sweaty forehead. Something she told him that night had stuck with him all this time.

"Death is not something that happens to you, little dove. It happens to those around you. Your loved ones, the ones who will be left behind when you're gone."

Those words were why he kept his notebook. Why he memorialized his people long after their passing. In many ways, it was selfish. A ritual meant to make him feel better and help him cope with the sense of loss. Finding ways to soothe the sting did not prevent the next strike from burning, though. Every death took a piece of him with it. It never got easier.

But, Goddess above, nothing had ever hurt like this did.

The blood on his hands was a sticky mess. His armor, which his mother had lovingly stitched together just for him, was drenched in it. It's warmth was contrasted starkly by the chill of fear swallowing him whole. Yuri had seen death wounds before. This would not be the first person he held until eternal rest stole their final breath. By this point, he had normally resigned himself to the reality of the situation. Now, his mind whirled behind leaking eyes, searching for some solution, any half-baked plan, that could stop the cruel march of time. This wasn't just anyone bleeding out in his arms. This was Byleth, his heart and soul. His future. What sort of life was left for him in her absence? What twisted shape would he mold into without the stability of her sturdy presence beside him? This wasn't even the first time she had skirted this close to expiring. Surely, he would have learned by now. Cut the rotting flesh away from himself to spare the rest of him.

Except the opposite had happened. Where he would normally pull away, Yuri only huddled in closer to her the moment those beautiful lilac eyes opened once more. Pressed them tightly together until he couldn't even recall which parts were him and which were hers. It certainly felt like he was the one whose chest had been ripped open now. Like an essential element had been torn away, taken just outside of his feeble reach. 

Distantly, he heard a wretched scream overpowering Seiros's whispers and that demonic beast's cries. The spots exploding across his vision and the way his throat burned told him that it must have come from him but he sure as hell didn't recognize that voice. All his senses were clinging helplessly to the woman in his arms. That was a semi literal statement. Healing magic drew its power from faith, but not necessarily spirituality. The less you believed, the weaker the spell. Yuri had never been one to place his faith in anything, thus he was a mediocre healer. 

Not now.

Yuri didn't believe that he could undo the damage done to Byleth's chest, lungs and heart. Nor did he foolishly believe that Seiros would spar them even if he did miraculously manage to revive her. In truth, his grip on reality was a bit too frayed to think that far ahead. The only thought in his mind, the only divine truth he could have faith in, was that if he reached out for Byleth, she would reach back. Recover singed the flesh of his hands, brilliant with intensity he had never achieved. His intent with the spell was not to weave together skin and mend muscle. Instead, he connected it to that small, fragile spark within her. Resonated his own power along the same wavelength as hers until he tied their very spirits together. Every bit of hopeless frustration, every shred of strength and his endless pool of love was poured into a message, plucked along that thread like a song.

_Wake up._

Everything around him faded into a blur of darkness as he squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding light of his magic. His anguished mind summoned an image matching the wish echoing throughout his body. Byleth, asleep against the trunk of a tree, bathed in flickering shadows as she slept peacefully.

_Wake up. Please, wake up. Open your eyes. Let me see you._

Her blissful slumber was lovely. Perhaps it was greedy, but he loathed the world of her dreams if for no other reason than because he could not follow her there. He wanted her here, with him. Completely, fully. He longed to watch the haze clear from her eyes slowly as she focused her sight on him. To see a slow, lazy grin stretch over her lips in greeting. 

_Byleth...please..._

_Don't leave..._

_Stay with me..._

_Be with me..._

_Forever ideally..._

_But even just once more..._

_I'd give anything so please, do me a favor..._

"Wake up!!"

The vibrations that answered his plea stole the breath from his lungs.

"So noisy."

When Yuri peeled his eyes open, it was not the blood-soaked audience chamber floor that met him. An unearthly green glow was laced into the air itself in this strange place. Every breath he took felt almost stale, like the atmosphere had been in stasis until he disturbed it. Warping into a place so remote, regardless of its distance, would ordinarily have turned his stomach. Yuri had put on a brave face in front of the others but being repositioned so quickly was always a staggering transition for him. Yet here, his body was calm. As calm as it could be with Byleth lying heavy and still in his lap anyway.

Speaking of. 

"By," he called, cradling her face gently. Rougher movements were more likely to wake her, but it was hard to muster the force, no matter how much his chest felt like a hornet's nest. "Byleth. C'mon sweetheart, open your eyes for me."

Their new location was not the only alarming change. Though her life force had been weak, even a novice mage such as he was able to feel it. Humming and pulsing with the desire to carry on, despite the limitations of its vessel. Now, that feeling was gone. When his magic leapt forward to meet hers once more, he got absolutely no response. Strangely enough, it wasn't because her spirit had been extinguished though. No, it was just...frozen. Not just her soul, but her blood. The flow of it from her gaping wounds had ceased. Even her body was stiff, unmoving...but warm. Far too warm for a corpse. Yuri's mounting confusion was dismissed by an unfamiliar voice.

"Fear not. We have not lost her yet. Time works against us though. We must be efficient."

Yuri did not recognize the visage of the woman sitting upon the throne before him. Short, choppy hair, green as the canopy of a forest. Body supple and undeniably lovely, bare of all clothing. This body was alien to him in all ways, but her expression was not. Emerald eyes swimming with concern, jaw clenched, face tortured. She was looking at Byleth. She had included herself in the list of those who would mourn Byleth were she to die. That was enough to assure him of her identity, as unbelievable as it was.

"Sothis?"

His correct deduction pleased her. The smile he received in reward was welcoming, if not still tainted by her own emotional turmoil. "Hello, sewer rat. It is nice to formally make your acquaintance. And to speak to you without need of an intermediary who would dampen my ire towards you."

There were far too many questions rattling around in Yuri's mind to pick which was of the highest priority. Did her existence here mean that Seiros had succeeded? What did that mean for Byleth? Whose body was she in? Where were they? Were the others alright? In his brain's desperate struggle to arrange itself into a semi coherent state, there was only one inquiry pressing enough to make it past his lips.

"Are you aware that you are, in fact, very naked right now?"

It was likely not the best move to piss off an ethereal being, especially now that she had the means to actually disintegrate him for his impertinence...but it was also really funny watching her face scrunch up like she just gave cunnilingus to a lemon.

"I could smite you where you stand, vermin."

"In that case, you could also fathom up a towel or something. And maybe put it on."

Already willing a somewhat scanty blue dress into wrapping around her form, Sothis huffed, "Am I truly so beautiful that you could not find words with me bare?"

"Not so much. Just would be really hard to take your high and mighty I'm The Goddess Eternal speech seriously with your bits hanging out."

"Your priorities are atrocious," she spat, standing to descend the stairs. Yuri could have pointed out that this exact action was a good enough reason to have covered her chest, but that would probably actually get him stabbed. At the very least. Maybe burned to a crisp. That being said, while her tone would suggest otherwise Yuri had a feeling that she wasn't actually annoyed with him. Their banter had lent some levity to an incredibly tense scenario. Though she may have been the Goddess of Fódlan, even Sothis was not immune to the worry that Byleth's injuries were far too grave to recover from. Still, having a deity on his side did wonders for Yuri's stress levels. Maybe things weren't so grim after all.

When Sothis had finally knelt beside him, gazing lovingly down at Byleth, Yuri shook himself out of his mental recess. Time to get to work. "Give it to me straight. What are we looking at? How do we fix this, Sothis?"

"I marvel at your lack of concern for the progression of events leading to this state."

"Does it matter?" Yuri grumbled, tightening his hold on Byleth's still form. "You're here. We got some distance from Seiros. There's a hole in Byleth's chest that needs mending. That's all I need to know at the moment."

"And yet our solution requires context. Spare me an iota of your attention please."

Yuri would have preferred nothing less. Byleth's condition did not seem to be worsening but there was no indication that it would stay that way. Sothis could have asked him to rip off his fingernails in the name of reviving Byleth and Yuri would do so without second guessing the request. Though, the rational part of Yuri knew that such blind bumbling was not ideal. If he was to be an active participant in healing his beloved, he needed to know what the hell was going on. Patience was not his strong suit at present, but if this was the first thing he could do to help, then he would suffer through it.

Heaving a shaking sigh, Yuri nodded. "Fine. Explain away."

"As we postulated shortly after Shambhala, the Crest Stone of the Sword of the Creator was made from my heart. That same stone had been affixed to Byleth's stillborn heart with magic. Though it did not beat, my heart functioned as her own: shuttling blood through her body and granting her life. Yet, Byleth and I were not merged fully into the same person. I regained a consciousness of my own after some time. Byleth became her own being. Were we to join fully, one of our personalities would simply have to cease to exist. It was Seiros's hope that Byleth's would be the one to cede to my own. The torture she subjected Byleth to was in an effort to force that shift."

"Heh. Unlucky for her that you and Byleth were so close. You wouldn't do that to By. And she wouldn't willingly have parted from you, even to save her own skin," Yuri pointed out.

Sothis shook her head. "I am afraid that given enough effort and time, Seiros would have succeeded in that methodology as well. Her more direct approach was a reaction to the assault of your armies and her own impatience. Nothing more."

Mouth suddenly dry, Yuri breathed, "What do you mean by that?"

"Seiros does not realize it, but Byleth and I were very close to fusing at the end. As my memories returned, so did my powers. The closer I got to my true self, the more Byleth was able to draw upon my true gifts. And I had more free reign over Byleth's body. It was not Byleth that cast that spell to pull her prison into a rift. It was me. Even now, the blood in her veins still contains traces of my magic. Not just the Crest of Flames, but the full range of my abilities. Control of matter, time, space, and energies at the core of living beings. Mortal flesh would easily be overwhelmed by that amount of magic, but I have been with her long enough that her body behaves differently than most. She has always had accelerated healing, an advanced grasp of faith magic, and an empathic connection to those around her. Now that I can fully wield my own powers, it would be a simple thing to amplify those traits already apparent within her. Or lend her new ones yet unmastered."

Truthfully, Yuri didn't fully understand everything Sothis was saying. His head had never fully wrapped itself around two souls coexisting in the same body, let alone the immense layers there were to Sothis's powers. It was one thing to know that Crests were essentially spells powered by energy trapped within one's blood. It was another thing entirely to comprehend that. Count Rowe's schooling was woefully insufficient compared to this business. What he did get was the idea of Byleth's body potentially being able to regenerate itself. 

"So you're saying if you pump enough of your Nabatean blood voodoo into her, she'll make it?"

Sothis rolled her eyes, though the small smile on her lips told him it was an affectionate amount of exasperation. "How silly of me to expect a rat to be learned enough for such a discussion. In short, yes and no. Recall that her heart has been damaged. Were it whole and well, perhaps a strong shock of magic would coax it into beating without my influence. Given its current state, that would likely not be possible. I could regenerate what has been lost, but such delicate organs would require time to restore to functionality." 

What a bittersweet prospect. Yes, they could save her. No, it wouldn't be immediate. Yuri swore his own heart might explode from the anxiety. "I don't suppose you mean a couple hours."

"Sadly not. With the wounds she bears now, it might be a decade. Even the most optimistic outlook would take years."

Bile bubbled up into Yuri's throat traitorously. Years. Maybe as many as ten. So long as it was possible to revive her, to have her one day walk among the world of the living on her own two feet once more, Yuri truly did not care what it cost. But knowing that he would be forced to wait that long, half his current life span, to see her again turned his gut to lead. Standing still had never been Yuri's thing. His love for Byleth had thus far prompted him to make plenty of exemptions to what he believed were unbendable rules. Would that be enough to keep him immobile for so long? So much could change in even one year, let alone ten. When Byleth finally woke, what would he be like? Would she even recognize him? Would she even remember him?

Would he come to forget her?

Stemming the flood of pessimistic thoughts, Yuri let out a long, slow breath. "How do you suggest we give it time then? Keep her like this for all that time, trapped in place like a bird in a cage?"

"Actually, yes. I have suspended her time. In order for her to heal, I would need to start it anew. At present, that would kill her. Thus, the missing piece of this puzzle would be a way to keep her stabilized while leaving her heart and lungs to mend."

A way to make a human being work without the two organs that were essential to keep them alive. If that didn't sound like a dead end, nothing did. Yet, Yuri knew of at least one situation where something like that had panned out. "Like another Crest stone?"

"Not quite. Yuri...no, Luka. There's something we need to discuss before we continue." Yuri's eyebrow raised at her use of his true name. It didn't surprise him that she knew it. Where Byleth went, Sothis did as well. She was privy to even the most private of Byleth's thoughts. Yuri had never really stopped to consider if that bothered him or not, but now he hardly had the mental energy to dedicate to such thoughts. There were bigger fish to fry.

"I don't care about anything other than saving her right now, Sothis."

"I know. And we shall. But first I must ask: what would you give up to unwrite this cruel fate of hers?"

"Anything," he replied, without hesitation.

"Even your own life?" Sothis's expression was solemn. Almost pained. This was more than just an exercise in theoretical loyalty. She was really asking. Ten years without Byleth was a steep enough price in his books, but beggars could not stand to be choosers. No matter what she asked for, his answer would not change.

"What part of anything don't you understand? You want my blood? Fine. My heart? Sure, why not? Byleth already has that. Just...look, I don't care what the cost is. I know you love her just as much as I do. I said I'll do anything and I mean it. Just tell me how we can bring her back."

For a moment, Sothis merely stared at him. Yuri didn't have a clue what she was looking for. Some shred of doubt lingering in his mind, peaking out through how he held himself? She would not find any. A response to some unspoken question? Even if she did ask, there likely wouldn't be much he could tell her that she didn’t already know. Though he was perfectly willing to provide anything he could to aid this cause, the fact remained that there was next to nothing Yuri could give that Sothis herself could not account for in some other way. His grab bag of tricks and sneaky ploys was laughably empty. When they had warped over here, wherever here was, all Yuri had on him was a dagger, a small satchel of potions, and his quiver. His bow had been long since destroyed, his sword was likely still lying on the floor of the audience chamber. Clothes drenched in blood, skin covered in a cold, worried sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, Yuri was a genuine mess. Whatever it was she needed from him, he was woefully unprepared to deliver. Anyone with eyes could see that. 

When Sothis was content in her evaluation, her mouth quirked up into an amused smirk.

"You're an idiot, sewer rat."

Scowling at the unexpected jab, Yuri growled, "Come again?"

"Reviving her at the cost of you would not bring her joy. It would simply sentence her to a life of regret and agony." That was not an unreasonable observation. In truth, Yuri himself was still wrestling with the fear of a life spent without her. Subjecting her to the same thing would indeed be cruel. "No. Our solution must be absolute. Which does introduce a wrinkle into this plan. How to go about this, then?"

"I've got nothing. You're the all powerful supernatural being. You tell me."

"Hush. Entertain yourself for a moment and leave me to think in peace."

Rude, but fair enough. The various trains of thought in his head were tangled hopelessly like a pile of rope. As the silence stretched between them, Yuri brushed his trembling hands through Byleth's matted hair. Logically, he knew they were working towards a fix. Sothis was just as stubborn as she was capable. They'd figure something out. But his heart only knew how quiet and motionless she was. Her chest was a gory mess, a constant reminder of his failure. He should have never entertained Seteth's half-baked plan. As soon as she had fallen into his arms, Yuri should have whisked her away to safety. Left the war, Seiros, all of this behind. A life on the run was hardly a life at all, but at least they'd be alive. 

If Byelth were awake now, she would have scolded him for such thinking. That type of cowardice was a security blanket in his mind. Only play your hand if victory is assured. Life to play another day. Byleth, Balthus, Constance and Hapi were the first to introduce Yuri to the idea that surviving and living were not synonymous. The future he wanted with Byleth was one where they didn't need to look over their shoulder every few minutes. Picturing that far off time settled the restlessness in Yuri's chest. He knew Sothis had asked for silence, but Yuri going nuts was bound to be more annoying than him musing to himself out loud. And so he began to mutter out his thoughts, mostly to the open air, partially to her, partially to Byleth.

"You know, since I was a kid I got into this habit of not overstepping my own reach. The future was a nebulous thing for a brat like me. All I could do what change the immediate future and tackle what emerged over the horizon next. Now...now I dream of loftier things. A life spent advising lords and rulers in this new world how best to help the little guy. Traveling beyond the stretch of Fódlan, to Almyra, Dadga, further. Giving my mom an easy life until her passing. Raising kids together and giving them everything we never had as children." Warmth pooled in his chest and the corners of his eyes, tears not falling but getting close. Running his thumb lovingly over Byleth's cheek, Yuri croaked, "I want that, Sothis. I want all of it, with her, so fucking badly. I know it's greedy as hell but that's kinda my thing at this point so screw it. That's what I want."

Sothis placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes with a glance full of sympathy. Her words were soft when she spoke. "You have mentioned a certain fear of dying. What of living eternally? Does that inspire fear in you?"

"Alone? Yes. With her? I think I'd manage. Just gives us more time to work on my long list of goals. And hers."

The woman beside him smiled, a tentative hope flaring in his gut at the sight. "Then I believe I have a solution, but I will warn you: I have no idea if it will work."

Funny. How many times had he heard that before? Too many. With a grin, Yuri prompted, "Spoken like a true Ashen Wolf, Sothis. Hit me."

Blinking, Sothis looked comically confused at his statement. Even in the strange lighting of the room, Yuri could make out a telltale blush forming on her cheeks. "Me? A member of the Ashen Wolves?"

"Of course. You've been with us since the beginning, haven’t you? We would have been up shit’s creek without you plenty of times." He meant it too. Ever since they had first learned of Sothis's spot in Byleth's head, all of them had tried communicating with her at some point. It was sort of an unspoken thing. Yuri mostly bickered with her through Byleth. Constance had a litany of questions that sprung up now and again. Hapi didn't really talk to her much, but did ask for her opinion of their plans sometimes. And Balthus...well. "Besides, Balthus is gonna get a kick out of this new body of yours."

"Vulgar as ever," she sighed, not putting any effort into maintaining her air of snooty supremacy. Being included in their number really had touched her. How cute. Had Yuri not just been close to tears himself, he may have teased her for it. Alas, they were evenly matched in blackmail material.

"Yeah, yeah. So what's this plan of yours?"

Gathering her wits once more, Sothis explained, "All in good time. We must relocate. Best to do it now rather than later. Can you lift her?"

A better question would be if he could stand. Judging by the way his arms were still 80% jelly, it would be a gamble to expect his legs to carry not only his weight, but also Byleth's. Determination would be his ally in that endeavor. Yuri'd be damned if he dropped her even when she wasn't at death's door.

"Sure. Where to?"

"This way. I will explain as we walk."

There were still loose threads to take care of. Dozens of them. Even if this hair brained scheme succeeded, Seiros was still prowling around somewhere. Yuri couldn't imagine Sothis's disappearance into thin air was well received. Were they safe from her here? What of the fate of his dear friends? They had still been daringly fending off the monstrous form of Catherine when last he saw them. Had they survived? Had the army? The penultimate conflict in the audience chamber had been rather mild compared to the hellfire awaiting them should Seiros actually transform herself. And through all that uncertainty, here Yuri was scuttling after the Creator herself on uneasy legs, hoping for a sliver of a chance to save Byleth. Even with the Goddess of Fódlan at his side, Yuri still was not entirely sure they'd emerge from this victorious. 

It was a bet Yuri would just have to put his faith in.

* * *

Their situation was undeniably dire. 

The Army of the Three Houses was out in the fields being slaughtered by the Immaculate One. Even with her army at half its strength, Seiros would be enough of a challenge on her own. Victory in this battle would likely be costly. Jeralt could hardly stand. Hapi had regained consciousness after a quick heal spell, but she still looked only moments from puking. Constance was shaking like a leaf. Balthus's leg would slow him down. Who knew what state the students below in the trenches were in? As if all that wasn't bad enough, Yuri and Byleth were still missing. Their only silver lining was this mysterious woman carrying Byleth's sword. By all accounts, despair should have consumed the Ashen Wolves.

Sad and solemn wasn't really the way they rolled though.

"No fucking way! Is that really you, Sothis?!"

The woman in question jumped at the loud, enthusiastic greeting. Byleth always said that Sothis could hear and see them. For all they knew, she could have been lying. They really had no proof one way or the other. Had they doubts about Sothis's existence, the warmth in the smile she sent Balthus's way was more than enough to prove that this woman truly did know them. "Yes, Balthus. It is I."

In the corner of his eye, Balthus could tell that the lordlings were more than a little thrown off not just by the Goddess of Fódlan suddenly appearing, but also by the fact that the Wolves were treating her like an old friend rather than a deity. It made sense. Being bonded with Sothis was a secret By had kept close to her chest. Not even Jeralt knew about her. In that way, being one of the few people trusted with that knowledge was a huge honor. Now that the cat was out of the bag, there would likely be some consequences. How could the Goddess returning to the realm of mortal not? Balthus highly doubted it would make any real difference to the Wolves. 

That being said, there was one very pressing matter that needed to be addressed.

"I'm so pissed." Such a grumpy interjection in the middle of Sothis saying proper hellos to the girls was enough to quiet them all down. Balthus would have laughed at the stunned looks he was getting if he wasn't so, well, pissed. Sighing through his nose, he waved a hand. "Look, Soth, it isn't like I'm not happy to see you. It's just...you guys know what this means right?"

Realization sparked in Hapi's eyes immediately. Shaking her head vehemently, the woman growled. "No. Hell no. I refuse to believe that Chatterbox up and died on us, B."

Balthus tilted his head in confusion. "Oh, no. I agree. Yuri's with her, she'll be fine. I meant that she lied to us!"

Sothis's eyebrows shot up into her hairline in alarm. It was a strong accusation. And slightly unbelievable. Though Byleth wasn't exactly straight laced, she wasn't the lying sort. What she didn't say was often more important than what she did. Contrasted to Yuri, who spouted off lies and barbed half truths like it was going out of style. If Byleth flat out lied to you, it was likely about something important. 

Apparently, that very important thing wasn't coming to the girls' minds.

"What are you rambling about now, you oaf?"

Grunting, Balthus abandoned all attempts at subtlety. "By said Sothis was a kiddo! Like twelve or something. This foxy mama- no offense, Soth- ain't what I was expecting. We've been betrayed. Again!"

"Wait...you're mad that the Goddess is a babe?" At Balthus's nod, Hapi's face scrunched up like she had to sneeze. Or like she was holding back a nasty sigh. One of the two. "You were the one asking if she was hot! Well, she's hot. Make up your mind."

"Don't get all jealous on me, Hap. It's the principle of the thing, damnit."

Balthus very much did not think he deserved the slap he got for that, nor the savage yanking at his ears. At least Hapi seemed to have gotten some of her energy back, though.

Burying her head in her hands, Constance sounded almost like she was in direct sunlight. Strange considering how they were hanging out in the shadow a building by the front gate. "I apologize for this buffoon, your Grace. You simply must excuse him. He means no disrespect."

"Yeah, ignore B. He's kinda dumb but he comes through in a pinch. Really good at getting punched in the face."

"Oi! I'm standing right here, ya know?"

They heard what at first was like a high pitch wheeze, putting their argument on pause. When she first came down those stairs, the woman before them had looked ethereal. Every bit like the Goddess they knew her to be. Now, her cheeks were bright red, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk trying to hold back her laughter. When she lost that battle, bursting out into loud, echoing chortles, it was impossible not to join her. Wiping at a tear in the corners of her eye, Sothis breathed through her chuckles. "Forgive me. I admit that I am rather weak to the hilarity of your conversations. It is...a relief to be in your presence at last. I have sorely missed you all."

Aw shit. How were they supposed to just take a confession like that in stride? At least Balthus wasn't the only one getting all choked up. Constance was the first to throw herself into the green haired woman's arms, drowning out her surprised yelp with a wail. Balthus waited until Hapi had snuggled in on Sothis's other side before wrapping them all up in his firm grasp and squeezing.

"We missed you too!"

There were other more disturbing implications of Sothis having her own body now. Though they had seen Byleth get a hole punched through her chest by Seiros, none of them had the time to consider what was going on when Catherine was trying her damnedest to slash them into ribbons. Thing was...Yuri hadn't been hurt. At least, not bad. Constance got the business end of Catherine's claws worse than he did. If he was backing out of this fight, it had to be for a damn good reason. Sothis obviously knew where they were and what the hell was going on. But, though they didn't really know her the way they did By, Balthus didn't think she'd keep it from them out of malice. Maybe they didn't have Yuri and By with them, where they damn well should have been, but they at least had Sothis. Balthus wasn't gonna spit on the small victories. Not when they weren't guaranteed either.

After a moment cradled in their hold, Sothis cleared her throat politely. "Now, now. As lovely as this is, our focus must lie elsewhere. As I understand it, my daughter is in need of a spanking. And I intend to deliver on that need... thoroughly."

True enough. Hugging it out could happen later. Seteth had asked them to play nice. They had tried that. Now, Yuri and Byleth were gone. There would be no kid gloves this time. Holy woman or no, Rhea was gonna get the beat down of a century.

And seeing Sothis's lovely face contorted into an eager smirk like that? Hmm. 

"Damn, that's kinda hot. Count us in."

"Yes, if you aim to march forward into this mayhem, you simply must allow us to accompany you."

"We've got a bone to pick with that dusty old lizard too."

It was a nice reset of expectations. Behind them, the lordlings were already packing up their horses and getting ready to race back out there. Luckily, neither of their own steeds had been harmed in all the tower exploding and giant bird slaying. Balthus saw Seteth and Flayn talking to Sothis near the stairs. Other than the Sword of the Creator and a cloak, Sothis made no further preparations. Crazy girl wasn't even wearing real shoes. 

Seteth seemed just as uncertain about Sothis heading out in that condition as Balthus was. "We shall watch over the monastery. Please, mother. Do be careful. Seiros is...not in her right mind."

Sothis gave the man a wry glance. "Cichol please, you need not call me that. I have not been anyone's mother or Goddess in over a millennium. Sothis is fine. And make no mistake: it is not my safety you should fret over."

At the tail end of their conversation, Linhardt came trotting down the stairs. He had changed out of those raggedy bed clothes and into a proper robe. All he brought with him was a satchel that clinked as the potions in it were jostled. Balthus never got to know the kid well, but he did know something was up with him. There was this icky look in his eyes. Almost like the one Aelfric had had when he finally came clean about his true intentions. Hungry, desperate. It really wasn't Balthus's place to go butting his nose into other people's business, but he really hoped that darkness swimming in his eyes didn't get the kid killed.

"Linhardt? Are you...going somewhere?" Flayn approached him like a cornered animal. Despite that cold expression, he sounded just like he always did when he answered her.

"At the risk of sounding uncharacteristically motivated, if I stay here on the sidelines a moment longer, I am sure to expire. I've no intention of fighting any people out there, but as I see it those unfortunate fools that Seiros transformed into monsters are nothing more than animals at this point. If me blowing off some steam will deliver them from that cruel fate, then that is precisely what I will do."

A battlefield was certainly a place to vent some frustrations...might be the best or worst place for it depending on the day, really. 

Unaffected by the shift in her classmate, Edelgard called out to him from the back of her horse. "Caspar would be thrilled to see you, Linhardt. And I am certain he would not be the only one."

Something changed about his gaze at the mention of his friends. Melancholy cut through the layers of thinly veiled hostility. "Thanks but no thanks, Edelgard. I'm not sure I want the others to see me in such a state of…agitation. When the fighting ceases, I will seek your forces out."

Ah, so even he was aware of it. Made sense. Linhardt was a smart cookie. Like a weird, socially inept mix of Claude's schemes and wild guesses and Constance's book smarts. His self awareness loosened the knotted worry in Balthus's chest. If he knew he was a loose cannon, then surely he would take measures to protect himself right?

He couldn't tell if the Empress was disappointed or worried. "I...see. Very well, Linhardt. Good luck."

"Yes. You as well," he bid absently, attention directed at their little group rather than the leaders who were setting out ahead of them. "Would you mind terribly if I joined you?"

Part of Balthus wondered why he preferred their company compared to his friends and countrymen. Maybe he didn't fear judgement from them? Whatever grossness he pulled out of his hat, the shit they'd seen lately was probably worse. Or...he was trying to buy himself a front row seat to the fight with Rhea. That one sounded like a Yuri thought which probably meant it was right. Neither he or Constance seemed to know what to make of his request, but Hapi had no such qualms. 

"Here, Linny. You can hitch a ride with me. Been awhile since we caught up."

Linhardt didn't hesitate to hop on behind her, sidling up to Hapi as if he belonged there. The dumb caveman part of Balthus's brain had a whole list of complaints about that, but this wasn't the place or time to voice them. With Sothis riding behind Constance and him buddying up with Jeralt, they plotted a course straight for the heart of the conflict. 

It was time for a little rematch with Lady Rhea.

* * *

Dimitri felt a weight fall off his shoulders when he found all of his classmates alive and well, positioned in a defensive arrangement on the right flank. Dedue and the Lion Guard had obviously seen some action, but the rest of them seemed to have been waiting for his orders. Mostly. Felix had taken command in his absence, ordering a hasty retreat when Rhea had burned a gaping hole on their front lines. The losses were split rather evenly between Faerghus and the Empire, with the Alliance troops suffering most from Rhea's razing of the forests. Dimitri could see Claude overhead, shouting orders to his men, trying to get them air bound. If the Alliance could hold the sky and he and Edelgard could rally the ground troops, they'd be able to recover their losses and push forward. 

Sylvain was the first to greet him.

"Welcome back your Majesty. Sooo...Lady Rhea turned into a dragon, huh?"

Ingrid huffed from where she was having Mercedes heal a superficial wound on her Pegasus. "Yes Sylvain, that is quite obvious from the giant fire breathing nightmare over there."

Annette had set up a fire orb just within the line they were holding. Each blast of fire magic scattered the approaching units enough for Dedue's men to skewer them without even meeting them head on. "Are we actually going to try and fight that thing, Your Majesty?"

"Please say yes," Felix grinned, barking some orders to their paladins, who were preparing to go on the offensive at Dimitri's word.

"Hehe. I don't think I've ever seen you quite so excited, Felix."

Ashe was right. Dimitri had been pleasantly surprised by how cooperative Felix had been since he took the crown. No, not even just cooperative. His dogged commitment to whipping their soldiers into shape and bringing the more argumentative nobles to heel had been instrumental. It was hard to tell with Felix whether that motivation came from the thrill of finally getting a good fight or an honest desire to help Dimitri in his attempts to make their country a better place. Either way, having Felix back at his side was a welcomed miracle. 

"Let it be known that regardless of what the boar says, I am _going_ to fight that dragon. And if I die, I give all of you full permission to stab my father if he says anything about me dying like a true knight."

Ingrid glowered at him for such an obvious jab at his father's reaction to Glenn dying. Honestly, they had enough constant daily reminders that their dear friend had departed from them too soon. Felix bringing it up with such tactless glee felt a bit underhanded. 

But, that didn't bother Dimitri. Very little could right now. For once, he and Felix seemed to be in agreement. Bringing down Rhea was the key to ending this stalemate. If his childhood friend wanted to wade out into that mess with him, who was he to refuse?

"Dedue, rally the rest of our troops. We move to form a pincer with the Empire forces. Sylvain I want you leading the charge with the cavalry to mend the gap. Ingrid and Ashe, keep those flying monstrosities off of the infantry. Claude will send the Almyrans shortly to back you up. The rest of you, attend to your battalions. And Felix...you're with me. We're going to go fight a dragon."

Dimitri had seldom ever seen such bald, honest happiness upon Felix's face in recent years. Such a simple pleasure. "Dimitri, you are officially my best friend again."

That...was also very nice to hear. Even if he didn't really believe it. If they won this fight, there would be very little else in the future that he could do to repeat this moment. Could anyone blame him for wanting to savor being the favorite again?

Sylvain gasped dramatically, "Wow, Fe. That hurts. Truly it does."

"Shut it, Sylvain. I've got a dragon to hunt."

Felix's lithe body sliding into the saddle behind him was so foreign now. When they were kids it was practically common place. Dimitri smiled at the irony of reliving childhood memories due to a war with an ancient deity. That smile faded a bit when he recognized something on Sylvain's face he thought had gone extinct: anxiety. Surely he wasn't that worried about Felix and Dimitri rekindling their friendship. Right?

"H-hey! Remember our promise! That goes double for running into a fire fight with a dragon where I can't come help you."

Felix huffed behind him, but his bite had no venom. "Oh please. As if I would need your help anyway." Then, as if also trying to reward such an honest display of emotion, he added. "I won't die, Sylvain. But if I do, remember what I said about my father. I mean it."

Not quite satisfied but at least no longer willing to put up a fight, Sylvain turned back to his horse, waving them off airily. 

As they bounded off towards the shape of Lady Rhea in the distance, Dimitri mused over the idea that Sylvain and Felix were still putting stock in that childhood promise not to die before one another. Back then, it had been born of Felix's ever present fears. Now, the shoe was on the other foot. If he had any say in it, that promise would absolutely not be broken today of all days. Not just because of their vow, but also because Dimitri wanted them all to see a future where the problems Faerghus had burdened them with could be corrected. 

* * *

Things went from bad to worse the moment that they reached the front.

There had never really been a plan beyond "kick Seiros's ass" but the unspoken agreement was to ride together until they got there. Which of course was shot to shit because Rhea saw that coming and started blasting the Empire and Faerghus armies with fire balls to keep them from meeting up. It was smart, but also rude as hell. In all the chaos of three separate groups of soldiers trying to gain some ground and avoid getting torched, Jeralt and Balthus had bounded off into enemy territory. Constance and Sothis were flying above the Empire troops, lending them whatever support they could without getting in close. 

Hapi and Linny were in particularly hot water.

If Hapi ever met that mage from Faerghus who toyed and played with her until she was a walking monster summoning circle, she was going to rip her into itty bitty pieces and feed her to some stray wolves. Staving off the urge to sigh when she constantly found herself in situations like this was hard enough. It did not help that every demonic beast in a mile or so radius came running for her like she just insulted their mother. Artificial beasts like these were no exception, which was extremely frustrating. 

If Jeralt and Balthus were here they could rip the armor off these monsters and leave an opening for her magic to toast them. Sadly, both she and Linny were mages and no amount of dark magic having any effect. She could almost hear Yuri-bird mocking her lack of forethought. 

"Shit. No use. Be careful Linny! These jerks can't be hurt by magic."

"Hmm. Let's test that theory, shall we? You may want to back up."

The green haired boy slid off the back of her horse and paced unhurriedly towards the closest demonic beast. Smart as he was, Linny's apathy towards their current predicament was pretty jarring. As he raised his hands and whispered a spell under his breath, the other beasts crept closer and closer. Sweat beaded on Hapi's forehead, praying that whatever the hell he was going to try it would 1) work and 2) happen like right now. 

None of her other prayers had ever been answered, but this one sure was. When the wind picked up, at first, all Hapi could register was how nice the breeze felt on her clammy skin. It was the howling of the wind that spoked not just her but also her horse. The stray gusts twisted around Linny's target faster and faster until a small tornado formed around the beast. Hapi could feel it when that wind grew sharper, cutting savagely into the hide of the creature. It's screams were drowned out by the wind, which grew powerful enough to lift the damn thing off the ground. Even the clouds above them swirled in time with his magic. Then, the gales abruptly vanished, sending the demon careening into the ground with a sickening crunch. 

In the wake of such intense noise, even the battlefield's cacophony was dampened. Linny turned back to face her, almost in a daze. Hapi's stomach turned as she realized that Linny's hands had not been spared the wind's wrath either. Skin shredded and bleeding, Linny didn't seem to be in any pain. With a wide, pleased grin, a pale light covered his palm, leaving them once more unblemished.

"Fascinating. Not so impervious to magic after all. I anticipate needing a sample size of at least ten before I'm willing to document any conclusions. Though, with you here Hapi, that shouldn't be too difficult."

There were so many questions. Too many questions. Hapi was used to being feared and considered a freak, though. She had literally been a lab rat, poked and prodded and treated like an anomaly. It would probably do Linny so good to see a shrink over this crazy dragon blood magic he could do now. But, Hapi wasn't about to try to have that conversation here of all places. Besides, with Linny pulling such powerful cards out of his sleeve, there was a nonzero chance that Sothis wouldn't even need to lift her blade against Seiros.

They vanquished the other beasts that were foolish enough to wander into Linny's line of sight. Even his weaker spells were enough to tear holes in that otherwise magically impervious armor. That would come in handy against a certain scaly archbishop. If they ever got close enough to her for it to matter.

A shadow flying by overhead presented a solution to that problem before she could even think to ask for one. It was hard to see through the smoke and rays from the setting sun, but Hapi was pretty sure that was a wyvern.

Only one person would be dumb enough to fly straight at Seiros with no backup. 

"Well, Claude's officially lost his marbles."

Linny followed her line of sight smiling to himself. "Haven't we all? C'mon. Let's move." Jogging back to the horse, Linny heaved himself up and onto the saddle without waiting for her.

"What? Move where?"

"Haven't you noticed? Seiros has been thoroughly distracted by our crazed friend." In this distance, she could hear Seiros's enraged screams, but the fire balls had ceased. Damn. Good move, Claude. "It may get him killed, but we likely won't get another chance to get in close."

Hapi's legs shook as she realized that this was it. Until now, she was running on pure adrenaline but now this had just become very real. And if she had such a hard time with just artificial crest beasts, what they hell was she going to do against that?

"This is crazy. We are crazy for considering charging at that beast." Linny gazed at her curiously, not pressing her one way or the other. If she decided to turn tail now, he would probably keep going on foot, but not judge her choice. To her left, she spotted Constance taking advantage of the same opening. A small pocket of the Imperial and Kingdom troops, likely led by Edelgard and Didi, were also marching forward. 

Maybe Linny was right. Maybe they had all lost their marbles. 

Swinging a leg over her steed, Hapi laughed out loud. "Fuck it, whatever. Let's do this."

* * *

The ground forces were trapped between a rock and a hard place. Even with Leonie, Lorenz, Ignatz and Raph leading Alliance soldiers around the side of the Imperial army to solidify their weak flank, there was still no way to close the gap with Rhea putting pressure onto the front like that. In the end, it didn't matter if their lines held, if the sky was clear. If they couldn't take out Rhea, this nightmare would never end.

"Claude, I know what you're thinking. Don't."

Ingrid and her Pegasus knights had been a very welcome addition to their campaign against the airborne demonic beasts. Between them and Nader's trope of Wyvern Lords, the skies were all but secured. Their orders, as per Dimitri and Edelgard's listed priorities, were to lend support to the infantry when they had finished clearing out the giant birds. Always a stickler for the mission and nothing else, Ingrid and Claude were bound to butt heads over this.

"They'll never get close to her under constant fire like that."

"There are still plenty of flying beasts about. They're relying on us to take them out. Let Dimitri and Edelgard worry about the fight on the ground. This is our place."

Snorting, Claude shot her a mocking grin. "Your place. Your king gave you orders. How knightly of you to uphold that command. I need not remind you that I am no knight and Dimitri is no king of mine."

"Must you be so obstinate!? What good will you do with mere arrows against a monster like that?"

A fair point. Whatever concoction Rhea had brewed up, it was nasty. These demonic beasts were hardier than the ones Claude was accustomed to fighting. Even silver bows didn't pack enough punch to dent their tough skin. The only exception was the winged ones. Rhea was bound to be an even more exciting challenge. A normal bow likely would prove ineffective. 

Pulling Failnaught from his saddle, Claude smirked proudly at the blond. "Luckily, I anticipated that and brought a secret weapon. If there's a single bow in the world that will work on her, it's this one." 

"And if you're wrong you die. You know that, don't you?"

Sensing another speech about the inherent responsibilities he had to his people that required he survive on the way, Claude waved her off. "I'm not asking you to follow me. In fact, don't. Be a good little knight and do your duty. If I die, feel free to engrave "I told you so, love Ingrid" on my gravestone." At her flabbergasted cry, Claude let the confident mask fall away for just a moment. "Oh...and take care of Hilda, would ya?"

Claude pitched Petunia down into a dive before Ingrid could gather herself enough to respond. Below, he could see Ferdinand and Hubert working together to push forward into the maw between the two sides of the battlefield. Caspar was singlehandedly defending a hastily made medical tent, with Petra and Bernadetta picking stragglers off if they made it past him. They were likely hurting without Linhardt's expertise in healing at their side. Judging by the wicked winds being kicked up from the middle of the field, he was likely doing just fine on the offensive. Jeralt and Balthus had gone down the path of most resistance, cutting their way through the enemy forces. They'd almost broken through too. 

Taking a deep breath and adjusting his position in the saddle, Claude figured he would only need to draw her fire for five or ten minutes. That would be enough. Or rather, it would have to be.

Notching an arrow on Failnaught, Claude took aim at the large wings atop Rhea's back. This whole plan would be pointless if she just changed locations on them. They could fight through the crowd to her once. Twice? Very unlikely. 

Claude fired off three solid shots into the same wing, rejoicing when they tore straight through the taut skin. If she tried to take off like that, the tension would snap the membrane, rendering the wing unusable. A sharp, pained roar made his rib cage vibrate, announcing that his solo mission had been compromised. Now came the fun part. 

"Aww did that hurt, your scaliness? Why, it's only a couple of holes in your wings! No more a hindrance than a severed finger, surely."

Throwing Petunia into a spin to avoid a fire ball, Claude could almost laugh at how easy it was to incite her anger. When he flew around her back to come around, he had to gain some altitude rather sharply to dodge her tail, which had some impressive dexterity. That was fine. Altitude meant speed in a pinch. 

On his second approach, Rhea's growling voice lit a fire in his chest. "I see your punishment was insufficient. Fear not, boy. None will know that Lady Goneril was missing a finger when she is naught but a pile of ash."

Damn her. For all the ammunition he had against her, she could dish it out just as severely. That familiar, unyielding fury boiled in his veins. Resolving things with Teach and finally retrieving Hilda had done wonders. Having El and Dima by his side through his did so much to ground him. Foolishly, Claude let himself be deluded into thinking that that inky black hatred had eased away from him.

He was wrong. 

Even as he steered Petunia into a pass by Rhea's head, he knew it was a mistake. Claude was quick, small, hard to hit. He could have buzzed around her like a fly for hours if he played it smart. Rhea weaponized his own emotions, luring him into a foolish play. One where she inarguably had the advantage. Nonetheless, he let a piercing scream rip free from his lungs as he fired off a shot at Rhea's eye. The arrow was incinerated by the plume of fire she spit into the air.

As was he.

Nearly anyway. His only saving grace was that hot air expanded, blowing him and Petunia clear out of the air in a back draft. As they tumbled helplessly, Claude felt the intense heat scorch his skin, leather riding gear like a brand against him. Claude didn't remember hitting the ground, only that his world exploded into sharp pain and the sound of his and Petunia's cries. Then, nothing but ringing in his ears.

When the black dots cleared enough from his vision to see, he immediately knew that his left arm was broken. Petunia must have turned around to shield him before impact. Though his skin smelled freshly burnt, he was miraculously in one piece. Save the arm crushed under the weight of his fallen wyvern. 

Grunting in agony, Claude whispered to her in frantic, breathy Almyran. " **Thank you, lovely. You saved your stupid master's tail there. Can you move?** "

His question only got a raspy wheeze out of her. Claude's blood ran cold at the sound. Liquid in her lungs. Punctured by her ribs probably. A fatal wound.

Face crumpling, Claude couldn't hold back a sob. " **Oh my Petunia. Sweet girl. I'm so sorry**." His precious wyvern moaned sadly, pressing her head closer to his. " **I know…I know. Shhh. It'll be alright. Sleep, my girl. Sleep. You did good. You did so good**."

The ground shook as he listened to his companion, the unruly, unrideable wyvern he had befriended shortly after coming to Garreg Mach pass away. Glaring up through the tears running down his face, Claude cursed the sight of Rhea, looming over him victoriously.

"How disappointing. You truly are nothing without that failed vessel by your side." Biting his lip, Claude repressed another scream. How could he deny it? It had all been going so well up until Teach left him. How many lives had he sacrificed for his dreams now? Byleth, Yuri, Petunia, nearly Hilda...and now his own. And for what? "Die now with your schemes."

"Open fire!"

Before Rhea could even gather more flame in her throat, she was hit by a barrage of arrows and magic. It all bounced pointlessly off of her hardened hide, but was more than enough to redirect her attention away from Claude.

And away from Dimitri.

A battalion of perhaps ten paladins raced in at Dimitri's side. As they circled the wretched beast, they dug their lances in under her scales, some ripping clear off of her. Others, tearing the riders from their seats. Rhea hissed, stomping on those unfortunate enough to lose their mobility. A spark of thunder lighting up her underbelly told Claude that Felix was likely somewhere among the fray. He must have been aiming at the bare parts of her stomach, judging by the pained roar that shook the grounds.

"Heave!"

Light assaulted Claude's dry eyes as Edelgard's men lifted poor Petunia's body up and off of him. He must have been quite the sorry sight. When the Empress herself finally knelt beside him, her face was wrought with worry. 

"You're a damned fool, Claude."

Laughing humorlessly, he huffed. "Nice to see you too, El."

It was an encouraging sign that he could sit up on his own. The charred parts of his flesh ached when he stretched, which was also a good thing despite the pain. It meant they weren't bad burns. The nerves were still intact. As for his arm, the most obvious break was at the elbow. There could be fractures along his forearm for all he knew. Edelgard sighed as she watched him catalogue his injuries.

"You should retreat. You bought us an opening. Let that be enough."

"Never," he gritted through clenched teeth, testing the range of motion of his right arm. "Get me a healer. I'm not done yet."

"No field healing will stop your arm from breaking again if you string a bow on it."

Meeting her gaze defiantly, Claude asserted, "Then I'll get at least one more good shot."

The Emperor did not shirk away from his stare, assessing his condition with her own eyes. Fortune had favored Claude in this incident. To escape from such a perilous plumet with so few injuries was nearly unheard of. Edelgard longed to argue with him, shake his dumb shoulders and scream that he would likely not get off that easily next time. Yet, more than most, Edelgard respected the man before her. Yes, he was pushing himself too far. But, this was life and death. They all were. Whatever affection in her heart bid that she prioritize his safety was drowned out by the weight of their mission. Even one more well-placed attack with a fully powered Failnaught could make the difference between victory and defeat. 

So, reluctantly, Edelgard relented. She waited until the field bishop had arrived at Claude's side before turning back to the matter at hand. Dimitri and Felix were making progress. Open wounds littered Seiros's legs and stomach. Their mages would at least be able to hurt her now. Still, there had to be a way to lower her to their level. Petty injuries like these would slow her, but they needed something more substantial. 

"Lady Edelgard!"

Down from the sky descended Constance, carrying Sothis along with her. The pair had been giving Hubert some cover fire, which Edelgard appreciated more than she could say. Last she had seen him, Hubert had been sporting a handful of deep cuts. Ferdinand would mind him in her stead, but the only way to truly let him rest was to lighten his load. Even more importantly, neither of the women seemed injured. That was a relief.

"Constance, Lady Sothis. Good to see you in one piece. Sadly, we have no time for pleasantries."

“We are in agreement on that front,” Constance droned, energy zapped by the sunlight beating down upon her. “I believe it would be in our best interest to end this quickly. Though she is outnumbered, I shudder at the thought of her bathing this field in a sea of fire with us still present.”

“For good reason. It would be the end for us. What we lack is a proper attack strategy. Lady Sothis, you are familiar with Seiros in this form. How does one kill a beast like this?”

Smiling wryly, the Goddess ruminated over their circumstances aloud. “In an ideal scenario, one would kill her in her humanoid form. To slay her like this would require a weapon capable of piercing her hide and a considerable amount of force.” Sothis spared a glance at the weapon fastened to her back. “Aymr would be serviceable, though even when activating the crest of Seiros, I am unsure how you would manage to apply enough pressure to her spine or skull to kill her.”

Pondering that for a moment, Edelgard just so happened to look up at Constance’s Pegasus when the idea came to her. “The power of the attack comes from the effectiveness of the swing. Constance, I need your help.”

“I’m not sure what a wretch like me could aid you with, Your Majesty, but I am at your service.”

Climbing atop the flying horse, Edelgard’s eyes sought out Dimitri’s location. No matter how plausible her solution was, it would only work if she was given the proper opportunity. The King of Faerghus was a formidable fighter, but he and a handful of men would not be enough to earn her that opening. As Constance lifted them into a cruising speed high in the air, Edelgard was relieved to see the state of the board changing in their favor.

Below, Dimitri spurred his horse on, narrowly dodging Rhea’s swipes and stomps. All ten of his fellow paladins had been slain at this point. Only he and Felix remained. Testing the grip of his lance, he cursed to himself. One, maybe two more attacks and it would break. Behind him, Felix had been impressively accurate in his thunder use. Each strike hit hard enough to buy them enough time to evade her attacks. That would all be meaningless without some backup, sadly.

“Dimitri!” Felix cried, stirring him from his thoughts just as the length of Rhea’s tail came hurdling towards them. He desperately urged his horse to jump, but the bulk of the appendage was too much to clear. They tumbled from their perch, rolling roughly along the singed earth. Dimitri’s chest ached from being slammed against his metal plated armor, but other than being winded, he was fine. His sweat soaked bangs impeded his vision as he struggled to his feet. Several yards away, Felix had already risen, hair free from its binding and blowing haphazardly in the wind. Dimitri’s breath caught in his lungs when he saw Rhea staring the swordsman down, jaw already glowing with the threat of another fire storm.

She was not the only thing glowing. The sparks coming off Felix’s hands danced through the air and along the ground. With his back to the young king, Dimitri could not see his friend’s face, but he could not imagine anything other than a feral grin up his lips as he unleashed a thoron spell so devastating that it blinded him for a moment. The harsh crack of the thunder bolt cutting through the air was matched only by Rhea’s agonized scream. It forced her to her knees, which was a marvel in and of itself. Before he could rejoice too much over the small victory, Dimitri noticed that the sleeves of Felix’s coat had been burned clear off. Felix’s arms were smoking, scars like tree branches already appearing on the pale skin.

Panting, the young Duke once more summoned that dancing electricity to his fingertips, hoping to capitalize on Rhea’s brief vulnerability. Any more of that magnitude of attack could very well stop the boy’s heart though. Breaking into a sprint, Dimitri called out to his friend.

"Felix! Stop! You're hurting yourself!"

The man glared back at him but dispelled the magic from his hands just before Dimitri grabbed them. As usual, Felix had no qualms about getting up in Dimitri’s face. "Spare me. What's the point of holding back here? What good is self-preservation in the face of death?” Glancing at the beast before them, who was starting to regain her facilities, Felix flashed him a savage smirk. “I know I've given you shit for it in the past but call me a hypocrite later. Release the boar, Dimitri. Use all that ridiculous strength and barbaric rage and help me kill this thing."

Dimitri found himself rendered speechless by such a request. It was not him that responded to Felix’s plea.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I agree with you, Felix."

A blast of wind tore through the field, nearly knocking them both off their feet. The gale’s razored edge carved into Rhea’s side, blood splattering along the ground. It was the first real wound they have managed to inflict upon her. Though he had nothing against Linhardt, Dimitri definitely didn’t foresee him being a key player in this battle. He was never more happy to be corrected, though.

Bounding over the fallen remains of Dimitri’s battalion, Hapi led her horse toward Dimitri and Felix, offering to heal Felix’s arms, which he stubbornly refused. Standing alone atop a small mound, Linhardt smiled fearlessly in the face of the ancient wyrm, who let out an enraged roar at the sight of him.

"You!! You pest! I see I was not thorough enough in dispatching you. Allow me to correct that."

Rearing back, Seiros spit a volley of flames at the unarmed mage. Dimitri jerked, body seeking to run to the boy’s aid despite knowing he would never make it. Hapi grabbed him by the arm, shaking her head. As the fire engulfed Linhardt, the three of them watched in rapt amazement as those dancing wisps of fire flowed around him like water around a boulder. In fact, it appeared to curl almost protectively around the boy. Even Seiros struggled to come to terms with what she was seeing. "How? Only another Nabatean would be able to...! ...Flayn. That foolish girl."

Linhardt’s grin was dripping with self-satisfaction. Huffing, Hapi kicked her horse into a gallop. Bad things tended to happen when Linny’s mouth got ahead of his head. "Quite rude to speak of your family that way, Aunt. You've only yourself to blame now. I won't be burned by the likes of you."

“Silence! How dare you relate yourself to me?! You. Are. Nothing!”

Seiros lashed out at him with a swipe of her claws but Hapi was just a bit faster. Yanking Linhardt off of his feet and onto her horse, she let out a thrilled laugh. "Damn Linny. That was cool as shit."

Arms wrapped around her waist tightly, he spoke breathlessly over her shoulder. "Can I tell you a secret Hapi? I've been thinking of what I would say to her in that moment for a month now."

"Well it was still badass. I'll keep circling her so that we can get some hits in. You do your mystic dragon fire stuff."

“With pleasure.”

Hapi’s strategy was not only effective for keeping her and Linhardt safe, but also for giving their remaining comrades a moment to recollect themselves. Balthus came charging over from the front lines, looking bruised and battered, but still hankering for a fight.

“Where is Sir Jeralt?”

Panting, Balthus brushed the sweat out of his eyes. “Good news is: he was able to convert a good chunk of the church folks and knights. Bad news is: he’s still over there dealing with that.”

“Then we continue without him,” Felix dismissed, drawing his sword.

Watching Rhea’s movements, Dimitri wondered if there was a way to trap her. On her next lunge at Hapi, the dragon’s tail skirted just into their range. Smiling to himself, the king brandished his fragile lance, shouting at Balthus and Felix to cover him. Taking Felix’s request to heart, Dimitri poured all his strength into slamming that rod through the layers of hardened skin, past the bone and into the ground below. A well-timed wind spell from Linhardt prevented her from retaliating against him as he bent the steel lance at the top. With her tail pinned, she wouldn’t be able to turn around and chase them. Claude had ensured that flight was no longer an option. Now they had her outmanned and trapped in place.

Stepping up and onto the wiggling appendage, Dimitri sprinted along her spine, unhooking Areadbhar from where he had it stowed. Fearing what would happen if he broke such a powerful weapon, Dimitri had been hesitant to use it outside of an absolute necessity. Ending this fight quickly definitely qualified. As he moved, Dimitri stabbed the lance down into whatever available targets he could find. The taut flesh of her uninjured wing was an attractive option. Desperate to unseat him, the dragon flapped her massive wings, uncaring that she tore them further in the process. Shards of ice rained down from the sky, pinning the limbs to her side. Dimitri grinned up gratefully at Constance and continued on his way.

The skin of her neck was frustratingly well fortified. Further, Linhardt had yet to manage to strike that spot given her constant flailing. Hapi bit her lip, knowing that Dimitri needed a chance to get both feet under him before he could go for any truly vulnerable areas. “Linny, think you can cut open the leg closest to Balthus?”

“Consider it done.”

On their next pass, Linhardt did just that, understanding Hapi’s plan when Balthus took advantage of the opening he was given without hesitation. The brawler didn’t just blindly attack the limb but aimed specifically for her knee. It buckled under the force of his blow, sending Seiros sprawling out onto the ground.

Perfect. Wasting no time, Dimitri leapt onto her forehead and jammed Areadbhar down into the dragon’s left eye. Sticky green blood poured from the wound, coating Dimitri’s boots. If he could just do the same to the other eye, this battle would be as good as theirs.

Linhardt realized their error the moment Dimitri pulled the relic free from its flesh sheath. “Wait! Don’t!” But it was too late. With a snarl, Seiros used her uninjured leg to push herself up, throwing her head back viciously. Without any way to brace himself, Dimitri was catapulted through the air like a rag doll. When he landed, it was partially on his feet, but the momentum carrying him shattered his limbs with a crunch and a deafening scream.

"Dimitri!!" Felix cried, loosening his grip on his sword, which had been lodged in Rhea’s injured leg. Grunting through the pain, Rhea lashed out with that leg, knocking both Felix and Balthus away from her. They hit the ground hard, neither moving from their prone heaps.

“Oh shit. Hang on you two!” Hapi galloped to where they had fallen, knowing that they also had Dimitri to tend to. Damnit. They had been doing so well. How did it all go to hell in a handbasket this fast? Though they were in her blind spot, the moment she ripped her tail loose once more, Seiros would have them cornered. Hapi cradled Balthus’s head in her lap, trying to calm her rattled nerves enough to cast a halfway decent recover spell. One of his ribs was visibly broken, but it didn’t sound like his lungs were punctured. "C'mon B. Stay with me." Linhardt had significantly less trouble summoning faith magic to his palms, but his aggravated curse told Hapi all she needed to know. The blood coating Felix’s brow was easy enough to mend, but a concussion was a harder fix. With an injury like that, he may as well be out for the count.

Grasping the hilt of Aymr tightly, Edelgard leaned forward, nearly toppling off the side of the Pegasus. Constance held her steady.

“I understand your impatience. Two of my family members are among those in the line of fire at present. But, Lady Seiros seems to have forgotten us. We cannot give away our position. The opportunity we eagerly await has not yet passed.”

Edelgard knew that. She knew. But damnit, though this had been her own idea, she felt useless up here safe and sound in the clouds while her friends fought and bled on the ground. It sickened her watching them toil fruitlessly.

A sharp whistle drew not only her attention but Seiros’s as well.

Standing not far from where he had crash landed was Claude. The field crew attending him had fled. He had no allies at his sides. No bag full of tricks. Just Failnaught glowing ominously in the fading light of dusk. Taking a deep breath and sending a prayer up to the war god of Almyra for good tidings, Claude strode forward.

“You’ve got a bad habit of not finished what you start, oh Exalted One.”

Seiros growled in warning, flames gathering on her tongue. “In a hurry to die, little deer? I can grant that wish for you.”

Only a stone’s throw away from her now, Claude flashed the dragon a cocky grin. “Nah. See my wish is a selfless one. I want to tear down the borders that separate us from each other so we humans can come to understand each other. That includes the ones you put up hoping to keep the people of Fódlan under your thumb. So, you see, the path to the future I want lies conveniently over your grave.”

“Unfortunate then that you are only moments from crawling into your own.”

Summoning one of Failnaught’s arrows, Claude pulled it back as far as he could outside of the proper stance. “You? Kill me? Ha. I’d like to see you try.”

“Gladly.”

As soon as Seiros opened her mouth to baptize him in flame, Claude squared his shoulders and pulled the spectral string back as taut as he could. His left arm screamed from the strain, elbow trembling, but he held his aim steady just long enough to find his target and fire. The kickback of that one arrow was enough to crack the fragile bone once more, but when his hiss was swallowed up by a shriek from above him, he knew that his gamble had paid off. The trick to close counters with a bow was that aiming was a hell of a lot harder, but the power of your shot would be immense. Standing directly under the dragon’s gaping mouth there was no way he would miss. His arrow pierced through the soft flesh of the roof of her mouth, flooding her throat and nose with her own blood. Whatever flames she summoned would be extinguished.

“Now!” Edelgard cried, jumping from the saddle just as Constance passed over Seiros’s head. Half blind and choking on her own blood, Seiros was completely unable react as Edelgard used the kinetic energy from her fall, and the pure force of the Crest of Seiros, to slam Aymr through the thick plating of her forehead and jam it into her skull.

Unable to stop herself, Edelgard bounced off Seiros’s head, hurtling towards the ground. Just before she struck it, a gust of wind knocked her sideways, lodging her into a nearby bush rather than the unforgiving earth. The young emperor peered out of the shrub to see Linhardt staring at her with one outstretched hand. Edelgard couldn’t help but laugh. In truth, she was prepared to sacrifice her own life if need be for that maneuver. So long as they won, any means would justify the end to her. For Linhardt, the first person to openly criticize her way of thinking, to save her now…well, it was some sort of poetic justice.

Extracting herself from the bush felt like a momentous task given the bulk of her armor being caught in it. Edelgard would happily do battle with that plant thrice more if it meant luxuriating in their victory here. Standing on shaking legs, the woman gazed up at her companions, her brothers and sisters in arms, ready to celebrate their hard work. But, instead of relief and elation, the only thing she saw on their faces was horror. Following their gaze, Edelgard’s heart skipped a beat in her chest as a white light gathered around Seiros.

She was healing herself.

How had she never considered that possibility before? Lady Rhea was a master in the art of faith magic. Thousands of years of practice meant that limitations such as healers being unable to restore themselves did not apply to her. The Nabatean blood in her veins granted her immortality. Was it so outrageous to imagine that her healing would be accelerated?

Falling to her knees, her mind whirled, desperately searching for some solution. Some way to end this before the healing process was complete. There was nothing. Claude could not lift his left arm, Dimitri, Felix and Balthus were all unconscious, Hapi and Linhardt seemed seconds away from passing out from overusing their magic. Unless the entirety of their armies marched over those plains and attacked her at once, they had lost.

It was over.

Angry tears gathered in her pink eyes. It couldn’t have been for nothing. There was no next move. If they failed here, everything they loved would be reduced to ash. They were standing right at the precipice of the future they longed for so much. So near, yet just out of reach. "No...we're so close. I refuse to lose now!"

"Well said," Sothis agreed, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You've all done well. Go now. Tend to your wounded. Leave the rest to me."

Balking at the unexpected touch, Edelgard struggled to find words. "What? But..." She had almost forgotten that Sothis was even with them. Because where it counted, she was not. While the rest of them had been fighting, where had she been?

Sothis smiled ruefully down at her, anticipating her ire. "I apologize. I admit, had I joined you right away this would be over already. I suppose I was curious. If you were capable of vanquishing her on your own. That was cruel of me. There is no further need to test your mettle. Fódlan will prosper under your rule. Now do as I say and leave, Edelgard."

Edelgard wanted to argue, to cut into the woman whose procrastination could very well have cost them their lives, their future. But somehow, Edelgard believed her when she bid that the rest be left to her. Reluctantly, El stood, stumbling over to where Hapi and Constance was trying to gently lower an unconscious Dimitri onto the ground next to Felix. At the very least, she would drink an elixir and prepare herself for the worst.

At best, she would learn what the fabled Goddess of Fódlan was truly capable of.

Watching those children, and they truly were still just children, battle so valiantly against a foe thought to be unmatched by mortals had been quite the spectacle. It had not been her intention to sit idly by and leave them to their fate. She envisioned warring side by side with them against this unsurmountable force. Yet, something deep within her could not help but be in awe of them. No, they had not succeeded without her. But given the grace of several more years of experience and more manpower, they would have. Was this what Byleth felt when she participated in that first mock battle of with the Golden Deer? This pure, boundless pride and affection?

Lowering her hood, Sothis walked unhurriedly over to where Seiros was lying. The saint grunted and hissed as she yanked Aymr from her head, casting the relic aside as if it was garbage. Her wounds sealed shut only moments after being exposed to air, but the injury had been severe. Given a bit more force, perhaps even using the axe as a conduit for one of Constance’s bolting attacks, they would have brought an end to their foe. Smiling to herself, Sothis acknowledged that she likely owed Byleth an apology. Not just because she allowed her precious students to be harmed on her watch, but because she was a bit of a hypocrite. It would seem that professor’s instinct ran through her veins too. Or maybe that was Byleth’s doing. A consequence of their bond.

And when Seiros laid eyes on her, her entire being lighting up with child-like joy, as if she had just forgotten the harrowing battle going on around them, Sothis felt the need to apologize for this too. Though it was not her doing directly, her very existence was what had driven Seiros to mania. That’s what this final act would be then. Her apology. To Byleth. To Yuri. To the Ashen Wolves, Jeralt, Claude, Dimitri, Edelgard, all of them.

To Fódlan. For too many years spent sleeping rather than cleaning up the mess made in her name.

"Mother! You...you're here! I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you. It is you, is it not?!"

"Yes, Seiros. I'm here."

Seiros did not so much as flinch at the cold, unattached tone. Her obsessive elation made her careless. Plumes of steam floated off into the air as the form of the Immaculate One faded away, leaving only Lady Rhea. White dress torn, soaked in green blood, hair matted and knotted. Sothis found solace in that disarrayed appearance. It meant that those kids had actually left their mark. She limped sluggishly towards the goddess, grin blindingly bright. "It's been so long. Too long. I...I did everything in my power to revive you. I'm so sorry it took so long."

Sothis only stared at her.

"Ever since that monster took you from me, I've thought of nothing else but having you back. Now that we know this process works, we can revive the rest of the fallen who were transformed into those awful weapons. My brothers and sisters. We can be a family again!"

Seiros placed her hands on Sothis's shoulders, the blind enthusiasm finally parting as she noticed the empty gaze her fantasizing earned her. This vessel's body was smaller than her mother's true form. It was not a perfect choice. The artificial vessels had been created carefully, meant to emulate the closest appearance to her darling mother as possible. Seiros could accept that imperfection gladly so long as her millennium old wish had truly been heard. Though she looked different, this was still her mother. Her precious mother.

Whose silence cut like a knife.

"Mother. I...why won't you speak to me?"

Sothis’s eyes roamed the length of Seiros’s face. When she spoke, she seemed miles away. "You must have suffered, Seiros. That tragedy...I have so few memories of it and yet it still pains me to think of it. Of our streets painted red with the blood of my children. I am sorry you dealt with it alone."

That…that was all that Seiros had truly desired. Tears ran down her cheeks, cutting a line through the grim. All those years had not been spent in vain. It was a blessing she could never take for granted. "I was so lonely. All these years. Cichol and Cethleann joined me after a time, but more than anything I wanted your counsel. To guide me as you use to."

Sothis's gaze sharpened, raising to truly look at the saint for the first time. "Shall I make up for lost time, Seiros?"

"Oh yes. Yes, please! I want nothing more."

"Very well." 

At first, the only change Seiros recognized was that Sothis was so close to her now. Their face’s only a breath apart. Falling into her mother’s sweet embrace would have been a benediction to a tired believer such as her. But her next breath rattled in her chest wetly. What could only be pain bloomed across her breast, spreading like the blood that was running down her side.

What?

It was no illusion. The Sword of the Creator stuck out of her like a pin cushion. Seiros blinked at the unfathomable image twice, then coughed, blood leaking from her lips as she looked once more to the woman whose hands were being painted green.

"M-Mother?"

"I am not your mother.” The emerald eyes so close to her own were cold, indifferent to the suffering she had brought upon her victim. Seiros did not understand. Had the transfer failed? Regenerated the Agarthian in this pale comparison of the Goddess? Despite the impossibility of this outcome, something told her that was not the case.

“What are you…?”

“This version of me was born in Byleth Eisner's mind, my consciousness tied to her own. Through her, I have witnessed your actions. How you controlled humanity through fear and trapped them in a cycle of violence to keep them under your heel. I watched you claim life after life in pursuit of revisiting a past that you will never revive, no matter how hard you may try. You criticize humans for their pointless wars and possessiveness over tangible goods, yet you committed the same sins. The followers of your church revered you as a saint, when in reality you were naught but a poor, lost child wandering around in the darkness."

The magnitude of her wound finally dawned on her as her body began to deny her commands. Legs giving out beneath her, Seiros slumped to the ground, staring up at her murdered with that same uncomprehending innocence. Shoving the sword further in, Sothis scowled at Seiros, hoping to wipe to make her understand. This was no betrayal. It was justice. Divine recompense.

“Fear not, I will deliver you from the nightmare of your long existence. Not just to judge you for your misdeeds, but because you hurt Byleth. Tortured and tormented the most precious person in the world to me. Yuri and Byleth may yet perish. Balthus, Constance and Hapi have suffered too. There is no love in my heart for you. The only mercy I will spare for you is granting you the death you tried to give Byleth. It is more than you deserve."

Wasting no more words, Sothis yanked the sword out, its serrated edges rending through the woman’s heart until there was no hope of her healing it on her own. It took several moments for the light to finally flee from her eyes. Seiros did not die a swift death. Nor was it gruesome. She went quietly, making no pass at fighting. Perhaps that was because she knew there was no point. All she had been living for had been stolen from her. What sense was there in struggling further? Sothis had meant it when she said there was no love between them. Even her memories of Seiros had been tainted by knowing her in the present. But she had still been her mother once, so she stayed by her side as she drew her last breath.

“Is she dead?”

Sothis opened her eyes to find Edelgard behind her. The poor girl was exhausted. A strong breeze might have been enough to push her over. And she was far from having the worst of it. Sothis rose to her feet, giving the departed Nabatean one final glance before turning to the Emperor with a tired smile.

“Yes. The day is ours.”

Several emotions paraded along the girl’s face. In the low light of dusk, Sothis averted her eyes from the tears and shaky breaths of her companion. That reaction belonged to Edelgard and Edelgard alone. As they sent up the signal to the troops, announcing their victory, the roaring cheer of the surviving forces echoed over the plains. Constance buried her face in Hapi’s shoulder to hide her own show of emotion. Linhardt and Hapi shared a smile, still attending to the pile of unconscious friends lying around them. Claude had, at some point, joined them in being dead to the world, though Sothis knew it was not due to life threatening injury.

When they finally tracked down Jeralt, they found to their amusement that a good half of the Holy Army of Seiros had defected. Sadly, many of those that held faithful chose to transform themselves into demonic beasts, thus stalling help from arriving in their fight against Seiros. Jeralt had organized not only the knights and former church armies, but also the scattered forces of the Army of the Three Houses. Under his expert leadership, they managed to minimize losses on all sides. Miraculously, none of the students perished in the conflict. Many were wounded. Marianne and Mercedes were working tirelessly to stabilize Lorenz and Ferdinand, who had foolishly been mauled by beasts so that their comrades could retreat to safety. Their injuries were nothing Sothis and Linhardt could not attend to.

Sothis, Jeralt and Edelgard had just been discussing the merits of setting up camp where they were for the night when the world around them began to grow suspiciously lighter. Almost like the sun had decided to rise once more only hours after setting in the first place. What they spotted in the cloudless sky overhead was nothing short of a nightmare. A javelin of light, hurdling down towards their location. No. Two…three. Even just one of those weapons would have enough destructive power to wipe out a chunk of their army. Between the three of them, there would likely be no survivors.

Before despair or panic could overtake them, Sothis whispered an incantation hurriedly, arms raised. White magic spread like spider’s thread in a dome over their position, forming a barrier that trembled worryingly after the first impact. A second layer of protective magic joined her own, Linhardt surprising a laugh out of her as he read the spell off her lips and enacted it himself. Even with both of their might, the third strike shattered their guard, leaving them vulnerable once more. Sothis fought passed the urge to collapse, rasping a command to the others. “Retreat to the monastery. There is a more fortified boundary there. They are unable to target it."

Every available man and woman rushed to secure those too wounded to walk to carts and carry them across the blood soaked plains as fast as they could. They did not bother breaking down their camps. Should another javelin approach them, neither she nor Linhardt were in appropriate shape to defend them. Sothis insisted the crest scholar ride with Hapi to the front of their procession, while she brought up the rear. That march somehow felt even more terrifying than their approach of Garreg Mach. Probably because the sweet thrill of victory had been so tantalizingly close before it was threatened. They had all sweat, cried and bled for this cause. For it all to be for naught now would have been demoralizing.

Though they expressed an abundance of caution, no more missiles fell that night. Sothis did a sweep of the monastery grounds, assessing the parameters of the barrier as well as renewing the runes powering it. Garreg Mach was likely not designed to house four full armies and their mounts, but they made it work. The most seriously injured were set up in a makeshift infirmary in the chapel. While the library and some of the second floor appeared to be salvageable, Seiros’s hasty transformation had destroyed the stairs completely. Tents were pitched all over the grounds, in somewhat disorganized rows. Soldiers overfilled the knights’ hall, reception hall and front entrance. Even the training grounds were littered with sleeping men and women, grateful to have a roof over their head, even if the floor they slept on was hard.

Sothis was doing one finally lap around the monastery when she spotted Edelgard near the front gates. Though the two were not particularly close, the girl had no issue voicing her thoughts, unbidden.

“We must defeat the Agarthians. I had always known it would one day be necessary, but they know we are at our weakest now. The longer we stay and recuperate, the more likely it is that they launch another assault. Enbarr, Fhirdiad, Derdriu…nowhere but here is safe until we rid this land of them for good.”

“Surviving over a millennium while hiding one’s identity from the entire world requires a fair bit of strategizing. It shall not be a painless campaign. Their advantage lies in their stealth and the technology at their disposal. But, I believe there to be two important considerations here. First, their numbers are limited. That will not change, no matter how long we rest our weary bodies. And last, our forces have already mustered. Bombing the whole of Fódlan would cause countless civilian deaths and lower our moral, but it would not spare them the threat of our might.”

“So you believe that they will not strike anywhere outside the monastery?”

“I believe that they played a risky hand that did not pan out and are scrambling to plan their next move. Lashing out against our people would only provide further insight into the location of their operatives. It would provide no benefit.”

Edelgard’s face remained clouded by conflicting thoughts. Their own army would be an insufficient threat without time to recover. Yet, they no longer had the luxury of time. Claude and Dimitri would likely have input on this as well, but Edelgard simmered in indecision like there was a deadline for her own opinion. Always taking the world’s troubles directly onto her shoulders, this one.

Sothis rubbed comfortingly at the girl’s tense arm, granting her an affectionate smile. “Not all opportunities need to be jumped on at first sight. Take some time to plan your next move and let your people rest. The Agarthians have slithered under the ground for a thousand years. They are not going anywhere. When we have regrouped and refreshed, we shall hunt them down. For now, a warm meal and some sleep would do you well.”

“I concur, Lady Edelgard,” a deep voice piped up from the shadows. “I have prepared you a meal and a bath.”

“Hubert,” she breathed, a joyous smile overtaking her face. “Very well. I will try. At least until Claude and Dimitri are on their feet again.” Looking over at the older woman, Edelgard leaned forward in a bow. “Thank you, Sothis. For your assistance and your counsel.”

“Save your gratitude for when our work is completed. I will happily accept it then.”

Leaving the pair, Sothis headed towards the chapel. To the hidden elevator leading to a chamber deep underground. If the rest of the army was taking some time to recharge and spend time with their loved ones before setting off again, then so too would she.

* * *

Dimitri woke to Claude grumpily sharing his bed. Unlike a certain childhood friend of his, it had been many years since he had woken up pressed against another person. When entertaining Sylvain's dreamy sighs about the wonders of waking up in a lover's arms, Dimitri had always presumed that he would be unable to fall asleep. Every small shift would send him into high alert. Not to mention the nightmares.

As it so happened, being thrown somewhere between 50 and 100 meters by a dragon and instantly breaking both your legs tended to negate the "can't fall asleep" issue.

It was not really waking to find Claude in close quarters with him that was the issue. Quite the opposite. When Dimitri jerked awake, panic gripping him, Claude needed only whisper his name and assure him that they were safe to calm him. The problem wasn't even that Claude was being a tremendous sour puss, whining more than complaining about his "unjust" imprisonment. That was, for the most part, amusing. 

The real issue was that his jailor was Ingrid, who would fly off into a rage about most people's recklessness but had a special place on her shit list for Claude apparently. Something about him telling her to write "I told you so" on his grave if he died. Which he nearly did not even ten minutes after saying that. So while the extent of his injuries was a broken arm and some minor burns, she had insisted upon him staying in the infirmary. Dimitri adored Ingrid. She was one of the most principled and honorable people he had ever met in his life.

Sadly, his legs were both broken and thus he could also not escape her endless lectures.

The other member of her captive audience was Felix, who had tried to argue that he had "a small concussion" and thus should be released. That argument had been overruled to no one's surprise so Dimitri was trapped with three extremely agitated spit fires and no way to escape. As the sun set on his first conscious day in Ingrid jail, Dimitri honestly thought that Sylvain had come to rescue them all from their infernal torment. He had not. The fact that he had only brought food for Felix and not him or Claude was only the second of many Sylvain related disappointments.

"Best friend thieves get no love from me, your Majesty."

Ah. Still mad over Felix's little throwaway line from before. "Jealousy is a strange look on you, Sylvain."

"Utterly hypocritical is what it is," Ingrid sniffed, still thumbing through the same fairytale she had been not-quite-reading for most of the day.

"For the record? This? This ganging up thing that's happening now? This is why I didn't bring you food."

Rolling his eyes so hard, Dimitri almost got a headache on Claude's behalf, the brunette's voice was dripping skepticism. "Uh, objection. Felix is way meaner to you than Dimitri is. I'm sensing some double standards here."

"Stay out of this, Claude," Felix gripped around a mouthful of stew.

"Yeah, Claude."

Said boy was gearing up to chuck his pillow (which was also Dimitri's pillow) across the room, when Edelgard wandered in. It was impressive how it took her only about three seconds to decide that visiting them was an error in judgement.

Holding a hand up to stem the flow of defensive explanations, Edelgard looked far too exhausted with their antics to have just arrived. "Before you even ask, I want no part of whatever foolishness is taking place. I'm just making sure you're both going to live." 

Claude collapsed back onto their bed, and partially Dimitri, with a dramatic sigh. At least the pillow had been spared. "No, El. We won't. We're starving and we're gonna die. Come cuddle with us before we wither away."

The prospect of cuddling with two of his favorite people was extremely tempting, but there wasn't even enough bed for him and Claude. Maybe one day when they had slightly better living arrangements, he would revisit that proposal. For the moment, his hesitations were reciprocated by El, who shot Claude's playful invitation down just as savagely as Dimitri would have expected of her.

"Truly a pity, Claude. Alas, my dorm room has a bed that I don't have to share with stinky boys. Sadly, I'll have to decline."

Whirling around to face him with a shocked expression, Claude looked as though El had just slapped him. "Stinky?! Dimitri, did you hear that? She called us stinky." 

Dimitri did his best to refrain from laughing at Claude so obviously, but it was not an easy task. They had marched for over a day to get to Garreg Mach, then fought in a grueling battle, then were brought immediately to the infirmary with no time to bathe. Stinky was putting it mildly and Claude knew it.

"It's not as though she's wrong though," he mused diplomatically.

His attempt at playing both sides of the field got him nowhere. "Wow," Claude lamented, curling up with his back to Dimitri to shun him. That only made him laugh harder, of course. "I did not live through the dragon apocalypse to get rejected this much. I thought we were friends."

Managing a small laugh herself, Edelgard turned to leave. "Your meager attempts to guilt trip me won't work, Claude. Come find me when you're cleared to leave."

"Traitor!"

"Good night boys."

Shaking her head in amusement, Edelgard was pleased that they all seemed to be in good spirits, if nothing else. Despite her exasperated act, she really had been concerned for their wellbeing. Claude she knew was far too stubborn to die. It bothered her greatly that Dimitri had been unconscious throughout the flustered trek back to the monastery. Seeing him awake and playing around so freely with Claude lightened the load on her heart. Watching them banter and laugh like that, she could almost forget that they had both been plagued by an insatiable need for revenge until recently. The source of Claude's troubles had finally been vanquished, but Dimitri's still roamed free.

It did not matter. That was a fight Edelgard would gladly stand by him through. She had promised to bring him their uncle's head after all, hadn't she?

As she passed by the first-floor dorms, she noticed a light coming from Linhardt's room. It gave her pause. While she had not been present for their reunion, she knew that the other members of the Black Eagles had finally discovered that Linhardt was still alive. If she knew Caspar even a sliver as much as she thought she did, whatever momentary anger he had towards his best friend for worrying him would fade away like an afternoon breeze. Still, she could not help but be curious as to how things went. Approaching the cracked door, El told herself she would just check in briefly. Then leave the boy to his devices and chase some well-deserved shut eye herself.

She could scarcely believe her eyes when she found not just Caspar, but also Dorothea and Bernadetta dozing peacefully on a pile of blankets between Linhardt's mess of a bed and his desk. There in this middle of the dog pile of students was Linhardt himself, reading idly while brushing a hand through Dorothea's hair. The scene was so intimate that she immediately felt as though she had intruded upon something sacred. Before she could head back the way she came, the only waking occupant greeted her lazily.

"Did you need something Edelgard?"

"No. I was just marveling at the rarity of you passing up the opportunity to sleep. Should I expect flying pigs tomorrow?"

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "No stranger a development than you trying to make a joke surely."

Stepping fully into the room, Edelgard allowed herself once more to admire the sleeping faces of her classmates. It was not long ago that she had been wrestling with her descision to betray them if need be. Her original plan as Flame Emperor, before Dimitri showed her a different path forward, would have put the students of the Black Eagle house in an uncomfortable position. While she had secretly hoped that their bonds would be strong enough to endure her rise to power and campaign against the Church, she knew that it would not be a completely free choice. Should they oppose her, it would mean betraying their homeland. That was no way to request someone's support. Looking at them now, she wondered if she would really have pulled it off. They were all so precious to her. If she had chased them off with her fanatical ideas, would they have missed her?

Would they have mourned her? The way they mourned Linhardt?

"They took your disappearance hard, you know," she mused. She had not really meant to vocalize that thought, but it would not hurt for him to hear it. "Caspar in particular. I'm sure they were relieved to see you."

"So I gathered." Linhardt's tone was detached, almost mechanical. It rubbed Edelgard the wrong way.

"Are you not happy to be reunited with them?"

Closing his book with a quiet thud, Linhardt deposited it on the other side of Dorothea. He leaned his head back against the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Of course I am. I missed them dearly. Much more than I expected I would." Closing his eyes, a complicated smile lent some sardonicism to his next words. "Not that I expected to die at 17 years."

"Die?" When he did not willing expand upon such a controversial statement, Edelgard carefully observed, "Linhardt, you don't seem very dead to me."

"Hmm. I suppose you wouldn't view it that way."

"But you do?"

Now more than ever, Edelgard wished she had further investigated what became of Linhardt during his absence. Flayn and Seteth were undoubtedly aware of what transpired. His behavior when she first met him again was nothing out of the ordinary. At least, not as far as Linhardt was concerned. All this time, the most concerning development in her eyes had been how powerful his magic had become in so short a time span. She would have been foolish to bemoan a skillset that led to their victory. Without Linhardt's magic, things may very well have turned out differently.

Whatever emotional scarring he had suffered, she hoped that it would mend in time. Seiros had been the central theme in so much of their anguish as of late. With her gone, perhaps they would all learn how to heal. Time spent like this would only help. Surrounded by loved ones and reminded of how valuable Linhardt was to them.

Yet, something in the back of her mind couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Even as the boy resumed his mindless petting of Dorothea's hair, or gazed affectionate down at Caspar, listening to him snore. There was something bizarre about his fixation on them. 

"You're right, Edelgard. I'm very much alive. It would be simplest to say that I have grown a new appreciation for the time I spent with the people I call my friends."

Then why ever did he look so sad? There was something lacking in his explanation.

Ah, well. No matter how much she puzzled over it now, he likely wouldn't give her a straight answer anyway. Their relationship was still a bit distant to demand honesty from him. The best she could do was give him space and hope that he would trust her with the truth eventually. Seeing that their odd conversation had reached a stopping point, Edelgard did not overstay her welcome. Before she closed the door behind her though, she offered the Hevring heir one last thought.

"For what it's worth, I'm not sure what you went through, but I'm very glad you're ok, Linhardt. Good night."

Blinking at her owlishly, Linhardt managed a small nod in return. "Good night Edelgard."

Linhardt was not the only one plagued with insomnia that evening. Though he was still suffering from stiff newly healed ribs, Balthus insisted that he, Hapi and Constance return to Abyss to check on things. It was not entirely surprising that most of the citizens had stayed. If they had anywhere else to go, they wouldn't have lived in Abyss in the first place. It was their hope that in the light of a new Fódlan, that would change. For now, with the threat of falling javelins of light and another battle on the horizon, there was ironically no safer place for their people. 

The Abysskeeper wasted no time making the rounds to announce their "triumphant return". They all put on brave faces to weather the onslaught of questions and greetings. Never mind that every eager face inquiring after Yuri's whereabouts felt like salt in a still bleeding wound. Balthus had been the first to lie. 

"He had some people to look after up on the surface. He'll be back soon enough though. Don't you worry."

What else could Hapi and Constance do but follow suit? Even though they had no idea how true that statement was. Their faith in Yuri and Byleth was strong, but what they had lived through in recent days was disturbing enough to shake that foundation. Sothis was the only one who knew anything about their fate. And she had conveniently disappeared the moment they settled back in at the monastery. Seteth and Flayn had searched frantically for her for hours before giving up. They had just as much a right to her attention as the Wolves did. After all, Sothis had personally seen to Rhea's demise. Of course her family would want to talk to her about it.

She would appear when she wanted to be found. Nothing they could do until then. 

They spent that interim doing their best to make up for their extended absence. None of them had any idea how Yuri balanced all the needs of Abyss. His desk was organized chaos that it took half a day to work through. Getting updates written out and confirmed took a whole day on its own. Planning their response to each issue took even longer. Sometimes Ashe would wander down to say hi and help out, feeling useless back up top where all there was to do was wait. Hilda had assisted them with supplies where she could, but with the remnants of three armies on the grounds, food was even scarcer than normal. Every day they slaved away trying to help their people avoid starvation and infighting. When they grew too tired to keep up the pace, Balthus fell into his bunk, drunk and frustrated. The girls would curl up in Yuri's bed together, trying to feel close to their missing leader without acknowledging this for what it really was: mourning.

Sothis finally made her way down the stairs of Abyss after four days. No pleasantries. No bullshit. Just a nod in greeting followed by "Come. I'll lead to you where Yuri and Byleth are." There wasn't much to say after that.

They weren't alone in their venture. Jeralt, Edelgard, Dimitri and Claude were also waiting for them, looking exhausted but healthier. Together, they trailed after Sothis in silence as she led them to a chamber deep underneath the monastery. It felt otherworldly down there. Not a one of them ignored the mechanical doors and lift, nor the shells of those bizarre dolls sitting disarmed in the periphery. Rows of coffins lined the space, leading to a steep staircase with a throne atop it. Sothis bypassed the stairs, feeling along the wall for a false stone, which opened another room in the base of the staircase. More coffins, these much nicer. Each had strange markings and glowing stones etched into the sides.

When Sothis halted them at the end of the room, it shattered any illusions they had about reuniting with their friends as they so desperately longed to. Constance's gasping sob broke the solemn silence that had swallowed the group the moment Sothis summoned them. Balthus and Dimitri both rubbed at the girl's shoulders in sympathy. It was Hapi that spoke first.

"So what? They're dead?"

Running a hand long the lid of the stone box, Sothis sighed. "No. Not quite. Not yet."

* * *

"A coffin?"

So it was. Sothis could remember back when they first invented this type of crypt. Back when Cethleann first discovered that she required periods of rest longer than any of her first-generation children. The runes engraved into them, powered by gemstones filled with ancient magic, cycled air constantly between the inside and outside of the enclosure. Fire nor force would destroy the coffin, making them safe places to wait out their years of slumber. Cichol had been dubious of the stability of such vessels, but in the two long sleeps Sothis was present for, Cethleann had never once come to harm. 

Her hope was that the same would be said for Byleth. Though, she could certainly understand why Yuri was giving her such a suspicious glance.

"You know, I thought we had been discussing a plan that didn't involve dying, but maybe I misunderstood you."

Shaking her head, Sothis lifted the top off the crypt, letting it strike the floor with an echoing thump. "Calm yourself. I have not misled you. If you have a better suggestion for where to hide a sleeping maid for many years where she will not be discovered, feel free to illuminate me."

Yuri did not retort, but she could see his grip on Byleth increase subtly. How she longed to tease him for his sudden and uncharacteristic lack of words. Alas, they had more important matters to attend to.

"Place her in the coffin. Quickly now. And do hold your tongue. I shall explain everything momentarily."

Miraculously, Yuri waited to snap back at her until Byleth was safely deposited among the satin plush. Never once did he break physical contact with her though, deciding to make the side of the stone casing his perch so that he could still hold her slackened hand. A sweet gesture. Also a cruel reminder of the importance of this conversation.

"So?" Yuri pressed, understandably impatient. "What's the plan?"

"Well, first we must ask: what function does a heart perform? It shuttles blood, which carries energy, throughout the body. It need not supply the energy, just the force. Byleth's heart can heal if doused with the proper magic, but something must replace her heart in the meantime."

Yuri's nod told her that he understood what she was saying to some degree, but she acknowledged that he likely would get lost in more complex terminology. "And her lungs?"

"A surprisingly less complex matter. Oxygen is the primary source of energy for the human body. Yet in the womb, children need not breathe with their own lungs. In theory, given an alternative source of energy, they too could be transversed."

A blood transfusion would grant Byleth all the magic she needed to heal and likely also to stay alive. Her lungs would heal right alongside her heart. Glancing down at the hole in her chest, Yuri summarized, "So we just need that heart."

"Correct," she confirmed, pleased that he was keeping up so well.

"And where do I come into play here, exactly? It would be hard to give my heart to her without killing me and you seemed set on me surviving."

Once again, Sothis was struck by how little credit she had given Yuri. From the moment Byleth had laid eyes on the trickster, she had thought him the type that could simply not be trusted. To be fair, that was also her opinion of Claude but look how that had turned out. No, even more so than the Deerling, who outright warned anyone in ear's reach that he was untrustworthy, the smart mouthed leader of the Ashen Wolves obviously knew how to work a room. Grinning at the thought of a good fight, smiling mockingly at the little ones as they fell into an ambush, and that infernal goading manner in which he called Byleth, a stranger, his "friend". Sothis had hissed insistently in Byleth's ear that his honeyed invitation on a "midnight date" was nothing but a ploy to trick her. Yet, Byleth had walked into it nonetheless, claiming that she did not believe it was her Yuri was out to bear his fangs against. 

Her instincts had been right but that didn't mean they weren't foolish. 

Ever since, it was hard for her to reconcile that wily thug with the loyal companion Yuri had slowly become. The man had proven fond of wearing different facades on his person like a mask, but that more than anything earned him her suspicion. When a mouth told lies 80% of the time, who was to say that that person could even recall the whole untainted truth anymore? It was never an argument Sothis thought fit to have with Byleth. After all, the girl had obviously been enamored with the thief from very early on. So long as he acted in her best interest, what use was there in criticizing her feelings, especially when Byleth was so unaccustomed to emotions at all? No, Sothis kept her objections to herself, vowing that she would retaliate with the full force of her powers as Goddess should he ever make the mistake of betraying Byleth again. 

But he hadn't. Moreover, everything about his actions as of late cemented in her mind the idea that he was earnest in his intentions. Should Sothis demand he carve out his own heart and present it to her, Yuri would do so as long as he could guarantee Byleth's revival. There were solutions in her mind that could utilize a course of action like that. Several, in fact. Yet, her reply to his offer had also been factual. Even if Byleth could be saved using a barbaric tactic like that, the girl would never be able to live with herself knowing that was the cost of her continued existence. 

The only answers Sothis would humor were ones where both parties could survive. Anything else would be a betrayal of Byleth's wishes...and Yuri's faith in her.

Smirking at him playfully, Sothis agreed. "Quite so, sewer rat. Which is why you will be her heart."

"Come again?" His deadpanned expression was well worth teasing him over.

"I do not believe I stuttered."

"No. And yet, you still managed to make less than no sense."

"I suppose the specifics would not make much sense to a lowly human like you." Sothis ignored Yuri's glare. "Recall what I described as our primary problem. We lack both a source of energy sufficient to restore her and a manner of cycling that energy throughout her body. My blood can surely provide the first. Yet, we still require the second. I believe you shall do nicely."

Lifting one eyebrow, Yuri drawled. "Uh huh. And you're just going to....what? Find a way to pump energy back and forth between us endlessly until she heals?"

"Precisely."

The man blinked in surprise, turning that response over in his mind a few times. She knew that that concept would be difficult to grasp. For those not versed in magic, especially the generation of new spells and runes, comprehending source points and circuits was a big leap. Though, even without knowledge of such matters, Yuri had managed to forge a spiritual link between himself and a dying human. Not just create it, but relay a message along it loudly enough for it to resonate along that bond to her, who also had a spiritual connection to Byleth. Call it desperation or blind luck, but that was a far more advanced magical maneuver than the one Sothis sought to set up. 

Regardless of his lack of experience on the topic, Yuri's instincts and brief dabble into white magic left him with a valid first impression of such a spell. "Pretty sure that would kill me, Soth."

"...it may. Though you may choose not to believe it, this solution has the least chance to do so of our options." 

It pained her to admit but Sothis, for all her renown as a Goddess, was not capable of miracles beyond the capabilities of magic. All that she could accomplish was through practical application of the energies around them. Changing their form or redirecting them was certainly possible. But, energy could not be generated from nothing. Nor could it be completely erased. Healing magic was a strange sort. It used the caster's power to coax the host's body into performing a natural process much more quickly. No snap of her fingers would grant Byleth that sort of renewal. Especially not when her own body lacked the ability to sustain life. No, this problem had to be addressed gradually. Alongside a spiritual support, if possible. For that, it was best that Yuri be entered into this crypt with her. He had bound himself to her enough to call out to her soul once. Ideally, he could grant her the strength to journey back to the land of the living once her body was usable again. 

Yuri for his part seemed to have dissociated from the conversation. How much did this prospect terrify him? Even the least risky route could very well lead to his demise. And Byleth's. "Do you reject this option?"

"Hmm? Oh. No. That's fine. I'm just thinking." His reply was a bit too detached, yet also too quick to be honest. This was not the sort of thing to be fine about anyway.

Sothis reached forward to place a hand on top of Yuri's. His flesh was cool beneath hers. She tried to keep her voice soft, as she sympathized with the challenging situation he had been forced into. "Feel no guilt in being fearful, Yuri. I know what a momentous request this is. Not even my powers are omnipotent. Should you decide to abandon this venture, I would not judge you."

"Sothis," he huffed, face twisting into a smile both amused and fond. It was an expression often aimed at Constance and Balthus. Sothis found that she quite liked it. "I appreciate the concern but I'm really not having second thoughts." Yuri's eyes trailed over Byleth's form. The naked adoration in that gaze made Sothis's chest ache. How silly of her to doubt him. Truly, he was just as lost as Byleth was to this love of theirs. "Honestly, if the bet is between us both dying or both living...that's a much better gamble than I was expecting. I'm just considering what consequences this may have on us, long term, if it does work."

"Such as?"

When those lavender eyes met her own again, there was a seriousness there that surprised her. Sothis braced herself for an evaluation of the long list of possible unintended side effects. Sensory deprivation, permanent co-dependence, or even the spell never releasing them on its own. So many valid points to pick apart her strategy with. His concern was of a different vein though.

"This isn't going to turn my hair green right?"

They stared at each other for a moment before Sothis broke out into helpless laughter. Through the tears in her eyes, she marveled at Yuri's scowl and the further implication that he had been utterly serious. That only made it funnier. "Is that a deal breaker for you, rat boy? Is your vanity truly so all-consuming that it would negate your desire to see your love restored to life?"

"Cheap talk coming from someone who can literally just transform her appearance at will. You chose green hair for some damnable reason. That's not my fault," he refuted, glowering at her from the side of his upturned nose. Such a priss. She regretted that Byleth could not witness this. Sothis would have to tell her the tale later. 

Wiping the moisture from the corner of her eye, Sothis grinned. "I swear, you are the simplest yet most confusing human I've ever met."

"Doubt it. You've met Byleth. At best, we are tied."

"Yes. I suppose that is true." 

In the wake of their brief mirth, the two spent a moment in companionable silence. Time was inconsequential in this space. If Sothis willed it so, she could keep them in this bubble for ages. But that would be cowardly. Heaving a sigh, the woman endeavored to give Yuri some sort of answer to his query, though it was not a particularly satisfying one.

"I have no idea how your bodies will be affected. Not just by my blood, but also such close long term proximity to one another. The number of risks exceeds the possible benefits. I do not even believe my constant vigil over you would change a negative outcome. Though I can put this plan into motion, my control over it beyond that is frustratingly limited. I am sorry for that."

"It's fine, Sothis. I'm not scared."

"I am."

Perhaps that was the most honest part of all of this. Her insistence on explaining the process was born from a hope that Yuri would challenge her. Push back and argue until all the unknown variables had been accounted for. Alone, this decision felt like almost too great of a burden to shoulder. But should Yuri join her in that discourse, she gained a sliver of plausible deniability. If this failed...if she killed not just Byleth but also Yuri, then maybe the guilt would not consume her if Yuri had pressed that knife to his own chest willingly. It wasn't until the first warm tear drop dripped off her nose that she realized how terrified she was. 

Sothis felt Yuri's arms around her shaking shoulders before she saw him move. "Hey now. None of that," he chided softly, thumbs rubbing at her exposed skin. She gratefully rested her head in the crook of his neck. "You're the reason we even had a shot at this crazy scheme working. I trust you to do your best to give us the tools we need to get through this." Pulling away from her gingerly, Yuri shot her a fearless grin. "In turn, you have to trust us to take care of each other and wake up. That's what By and I are best at, after all. Protecting each other."

Sothis sniffled miserably, acknowledging, "You have overcome quite unmeasurable odds in the past."

"Damn straight. And we'll do it again. You'll see."

Foolish. Where he got that baseless confidence from, Sothis would never know. It was also not Yuri's typical disposition. Balthus would undoubtedly rush into something like this without worry. He'd likely be thrilled to imagine himself rubbing off on Yuri. Though, perhaps that wasn't quite true. Even their crusade against Aelfric was an exercise in betting with death. Most would not place their life in the hands of a woman they met only weeks prior. Yuri was not the sort to bet on a losing horse. 

And if he was willing to go all in on this bet, maybe Sothis could stand to believe in it too.

Her resolve likely showed on her face. Yuri looked pleased, almost smug. Sothis had to physically restrain herself from slapping that look away. Though his expression was teasing, his words were not. "You head back to the others, give that nasty lizard a good smack for us, and we will be back before you know it. If you ever need reminding of that, I'm sure Balthus, Hapi and Constance will be glad to knock some sense into you."

Nothing to really argue about there, though that did feel a bit like losing to him. "Fair enough, sewer rat. Quite the blasphemous thing you are. Telling a Goddess to have faith."

"Blasphemous is my middle name."

"I highly doubt that."

The spell was simple in theory. Energy followed open channels. Once in their bodies, it would flow through them as naturally as blood. Were their bodies to have a physical point of contact, creating a path from one body to the next and back was not too difficult. The Crest of Aubin provided ample energy with which to start the circuit, though expending its power in such an intense manner meant it would cease to be. That was beneficial in its own way, since the burden of two crests would only increase Yuri's risk of dying before the spell was able to run autonomously. 

Setting the pair up in the same coffin meant that they were pressed tightly against one another, but the only conscious party voiced no complaints. As she set up the intravenous line between herself and Yuri, the man barely responded to her treatment of him. He had taken Byleth's hand without prompting, eyes rarely leaving her sleeping face. From their previous experiments with crest transfusions, the subjects had all indicated that the process was endlessly painful. That the very blood flowing through them burned like the sun. If that were that case, Yuri did not show it. One would question from the outside if he was even paying her any mind. Sothis was not sure if that was to keep his reactions in check or to ease her guilt. 

"That should be sufficient," she muttered, cutting the line. "I shall restart her time once the connection between you two has opened. It is a magical link. By their nature, they can be unpredictable. I cannot guarantee that there will not be side effects."

Yuri raised his and Byleth's clasped hands up to his face, pressing a long kiss to the ring upon Byleth's finger. Without meeting her gaze, Yuri only said, "I'm not about to chicken out now. Go for it, Sothis."

Be it bravery or stubbornness, Sothis could at least admire that Yuri was a man of his word. There was a slight tremble in her hands as she unlocked the alternate path, watching with bated breath as the energy passed from Yuri's palm, down Byleth's arm and through her form. She waited until the circuit had been completed twice without incident before she allowed time to flow back over Byleth. It was a welcome relief when the telltale sheen of white magic gathered around her wounds without Sothis's beckoning. Letting out the breath held hostage in her lungs, Sothis finally permitted herself a smile.

"Well that is encouraging. Have you noticed any discomfort, little lab rat?" Her jab received no rebuttal. His eyes were no longer watching Byleth with that unyielding devotion. Instead, they were closed, mouth falling open as his jaw slackened. Panic leapt into her chest immediately. "Yuri? Can you hear me? Luka!"

Beneath her fingertips, Yuri's pulse maintained a steady rhythm. His breathing was deep, unhurried, almost as if he had simply fallen asleep. The beads of sweat at his brow was her only indication that he had likely passed out. So he was in pain after all. The idiot. Though he had lost consciousness, the spell had not been disturbed. Thinking it perhaps a blessing in disguise, Sothis pressed a hand gently against his forehead, whispering a small sedative charm. One that would only be broken when he was jostled. Until Byleth woke, or someone came to rouse him, Yuri would sleep.

"Have a good rest you two," Sothis wished, smile soft and sad. "I pray that only pleasant dreams find you. And when you wake, we will be here."

With one last look down at her two dear friends, Sothis slid the casket closed and left their fate in their own hands.

* * *

"I have monitored them these past few days. It is... heartening that the spell has not been disrupted thus far. It is hard to say for sure how well Byleth's wounds are healing. That said, this process is exceedingly delicate. Even should they stay in stasis an appropriate amount of time, Byleth's heart may never beat on its own. Yuri's body could crumple under the weight of the Crest of Flames. If they do wake, we know not what after effects they will experience."

Gritting his teeth, Claude hissed, "That doesn't exactly inspire confidence. This whole fiasco isn't much more than a shot in the dark."

Not flinching at his tone, Sothis nodded. "You are correct. Yet, it was also the option with the greatest hope for success. Were there a less risky alternative, I assure you I would have taken it."

"Still," Dimitri lamented. "To think that the odds are against not only Byleth, but Yuri as well. To put his own life on the line when the chances of success were so slim. It is... difficult to swallow that choice."

"Yuri-bird knew that." Hapi's hands were firmly clenched at her sides, but her gaze was defiant. The urge to sigh was intense, as was the desire to cry as Constance had been quietly doing. She gave in to neither. "He's not the sort to leap before he looks. He knew the risks and decided to do it anyway. Pity won't do a damn thing for either of them right now."

Claude still looked fit to argue, but Edelgard bumped her shoulder against his in chastisement. 

Jeralt broken the tense silence. "I agree with Hapi. Belly aching over the circumstances won't fix them. Nor will declaring them dead prematurely. All we can do now is believe in them and move forward. We have too much left on our plates to worry ourselves senseless over something we have no control over. Someone here at the monastery can check in on them and report any changes to us. Other than that, it's out of our hands now."

Had that speech come from anyone else, they may have hesitated to agree to those terms. But this was Jeralt. If he could move passed his own daughter's life hanging by a thread, then they all could. No matter how difficult or painful it was. 

"Seteth and Flayn have volunteered for that task," Sothis added. "Should anything go awry I will be notified immediately. A full recovery will take years. Realistically more than five, but perhaps as many as ten. No news would be the best news until then."

Balthus sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Ten whole years."

Not a soul among them did not relate to his disappointment. Yet they all had to resign themselves to that reality. Expecting more than that would just add to their anguish. 

Ever the pragmatist, Edelgard held her head high. "It isn't ideal, but any chance is worth waiting for. It isn't as though we will be twiddling our thumbs for all that time anyway. First, we must eliminate Those That Slither in the Dark. After that, it will be time to restructure and rebuild this country. In the wake of all of that, ten years may pass before we know it."

"That's very true. We have our work cut out for us. Let's make Fódlan a place they'll be proud to wake up in."

Dimitri's proud smile was enough to lift the mood. The young rulers soon decided to leave to attend to the war room. Despite the oppressive melancholy that still lingered, there was a whole new fight to plan for. They didn't have time to wallow in it.

"What do you plan to do, Lady Sothis?"

"Please, Jeralt. Just Sothis. I've known you since Byleth was a young child. Honorifics have no place between us."

"Fair enough. Sothis then. Do you intend on fighting with those kids?"

"The Agarthians act out of scorn for me and my people. In many ways, I have more responsibility to address their threat than the venerated triad there does."

"Heh. Venerated triad, huh? That's actually not a half bad name for them, assuming we come out on the right side of history." Jeralt scratched at this scalp, hand toying with something hidden in his coat. "If that's the case, let me come with you. I know you're probably plenty able to defend yourself, but it never hurts to have some backup."

Sothis gazed curiously at the man for a moment, obviously taken aback by his request. "I do not mean to shirk your company, Jeralt, but I cannot help but wonder why you offer."

Pulling a pouch out of his pocket, Jeralt cast a longing glance down at the ring he had proposed to Sitri with. The very same ring he had hoped Byleth would one day give to her husband or wife. If anyone was going to earn that honor, Yuri was among the few he actually approved of at present. It was heart wrenching how annoyingly often he had been forced to come to terms with Byleth's mortality lately. Now, even Yuri's life was in limbo. Jeralt had wanted to sit down with the two of them after this was all over. Talk about the past, his failings, Byleth's feelings and where they could go from there. Giving Byleth the ring and his blessing would have been a nice finishing touch to that discussion. Sadly, it seemed he would be waiting a little while longer for that chance. 

"You're all I have left of her right now, you know? It's a damn selfish reason but it's all I've got."

Emerald eyes softened at his explanation. Sothis gave him a small smile as she acquiesced. "Selfish or no, I doubt anyone could fault you for it. Very well. Do know though that Byleth would be quite cross with me if you got hurt for my sake."

"Noted."

"We shall be with you as well," Constance promised, eyes still red around the rim. "Those brutes were quite discourteous to us when we visited them. We simply must repay them for such rudeness."

"Count me in too. Anyone who's gotta bone to pick with you hasta go through me, Soth."

Laughing, Sothis managed a real smile. "A monumental undertaking to be certain, Balthus." Only one of the Ashen Wolves had yet to announce their intentions. Sothis had a feeling she knew why, too. "Hapi?"

The woman glanced up briefly then back at her feet. "I'm...worried about Abyss. We already left everyone there for so long. If we just up and disappear on them again, they'll starve."

No matter how eager they were, none of them were Yuri. They didn't have his underworld connections to draw upon when their surface relations didn't pan out. They didn't know where to turn or who to reach out to if plans fell through. Any of them could learn, sure. But with another war looming and the place in such a sorry state already, there just wasn't enough time. 

"Let us go and speak with Seteth then." Hapi's head jerked up, eyes attentive. "While it may not be a permanent solution, the officer's academy, knights’ hall and army barracks will all lay empty. I am sure that there will be meals set aside for those who help in repairing the damages. That may be serviceable until better arrangements can be made."

Dumbfounded, Hapi could only nod mutely. Balthus and Constance each spared her a grin, both equally pleased with this development. 

"Well alright. Guess that settles that! Speaking of grub, I'm starving. Think we can grab a bite before heading to the war thingy upstairs?"

"Is that all you are capable of prioritizing Balthus?"

"I'm with B on this one. Food first. Boring meetings later."

"Hell yeah, Hap! That's my girl."

"Don't call me that."

"Aha, but you are indeed blushing if my eyes do not deceive me, Hapi. The lady doth protest too much methinks."

"Fuck off. Both of you."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll lay off, Hap. No worries." Then suddenly, as if remembering where he was, Balthus spun around and approached the coffin. Placing a hand upon the lid, the man gave an earnest grin. "Shit. Almost forgot. See ya later Boss, By. We'll stop by again before we head out to kick those pasty-faced assholes' butts."

Sharing a warm look, the girls joined Balthus, also touching the stone surface affectionately. "Fear not. By the time you are next with us, I will have risen back to prominence and restored my house to it's former glory. I simply insist that you come celebrate with me when the time comes. Ta ta for now."

"You guys better wake up. I swear to, well not Sothis she's right there, but someone! I'll be pissed if you jerks die on us." Inhaling shakily, Hapi bit her bottom lip. "Sleep well."

The three remaining Ashen Wolves had no reason to linger, shuffling off back the way they came, bickering all the while. Sothis could not restrain her smile at their antics. Never would there ever be a group quite like them. 

"Hurry back," she whispered to the slumbering couple. "You have so many friends eagerly awaiting your return. We will stand vigil over this fledgling united Fódlan in the meantime."

"You two take care of each other and we'll do the same. I'll hold on to this a little while longer, but I expect a real ceremony after all the shit you've put us through. You hear me?" Slipping the pouch back in his coat, Jeralt took a deep breath to steady himself, then offered an arm to Sothis. "You ready?"

"Not even a bit," she smiled, slipping her arm through his. "Let's go."

While plenty of members of the Three Houses Army knew that Byleth Eisner and Yuri Leclerc laid dormant under Garreg Mach monastery only those select few had actually seen where they rested. Not a single one of them bid the pair goodbye. Merely goodnight. Those that ventured forth into the fray knew not when they would return, nor if anyone would be waiting for them when they did. What they did know was that for better or worse, Fódlan would not be the same place anymore when they did finally return. Yet they all held hope in their hearts that the sparkling new dawn their efforts brought forth was one they would all be able to admire together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit friends. I can't believe I got here. Did I think this story would be almost 150k when I wrote it? No. Absolutely not. But here we are.
> 
> I apparently am incapable of not hurting Claude. And I blinked and suddenly feral Linny was in this story too. Felix got a concussion. Yuri's taking a time-skip nap. I think the true moral of the story is: don't be Kel's favorite character. Bad things will occur. 
> 
> To make it abundantly clear, yes, this is how I'm addressing the time skip. It will work a tad differently than in the game obviously, but that felt like a good place to end this part of their story. I likely would not have the energy to write out the way with Agarthia in full so I'm not even gonna try.
> 
> I have ideas for like two one shot sequels about Yuri and By. One will of course involve Jeralt, Sothis, the Wolves and them getting married. The other is a secret ;) We shall see when I find time to write them tho. Comments, the fuel of my addiction and only payment I have ever asked for despite writing an entire novel in my free time, would surely make that happen faster. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll rehash this in the epilogue notes but it has been an absolutely fantastic ride. For all of you who consistently drop me a note, know that I love and adore you. Thanks for sticking with me.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are the events as history tells them. However, history’s memory is a limited thing.
> 
> There were just some things history would never know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a slight change in plans. The epilogue was originally only the first and last part, but uhhhhhh, whatever. This was going to be a part of a one shot, but now I may either skip that one or just write the other parts. We shall seeee.
> 
> Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of violence, implied rape, and referenced sex work.
> 
> Anyway, here it is, the real real real end of Pack Dynamics.

In the Imperial Year 1180, the armies of the Adrestian Empire, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Leicester Alliance banded together to unseat the Archbishop, Lady Rhea from the head of the Church of Seiros. The young Emperor, King and Duke were referred to as the Venerated Triad and treated all members of their forces, dubbed the Army of the Three Houses, equally. It is said that their forces were aided from inside by members of the Knights of Seiros and officiates of the Church. One woman, who took the name Sothis, led the charge against Rhea's forces and eventually helped organize the Three Houses to seize Shambhala, the home of the Agarthians. Many believed that Sothis was the Goddess herself reborn, but this fact was never confirmed. Before a decisive battle with the Agarthian army, Sothis made a speech to the people of the Three Houses. The only recorded lines were as follows:

_Do not waste your breath praying for my deliverance or mercy. I have no power over you. Put your faith in your skills and each other. All I can give you is my sword at your side. Let that be enough._

When the war was finally declared to be over by Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg in 1185, the Venerated Triad began discussions to unite Fódlan under one banner. There was no single ruler of the United Kingdom of Fódlan, but a counsel of approved diplomats. The efforts of the former Emperor and King, Dimitri Alexander Blaiddyd, revolutionized the government of the continent. The noble houses of old faded away from their seats of power, replaced by elected officials. Constance von Nuvelle won the first major seat in the old Empire territory by a landslide. It was said that her policies were focused on aiding the less fortunate, making her a beloved figure head of her territory. She was frequently seen in the company of Balthus von Albrecht and Hapi, who had taken leadership of a band of mercenaries previously employed by Jeralt Eisner. They traveled Fódlan, helping with humanitarian efforts and doing the occasional contract on the side. Also during this time, the newly crowned King of Almyra, formerly known as Claude von Riegan, started peace talks, entering the world into a new age of peace and prosperity.

These are the events as history tells them. However, history’s memory is a limited thing.

There were just some things history would never know.

* * *

Even when Sothis's voice was still cutting through the cloud of intense agony, Yuri started to drift into images and moments completely unfamiliar to him. He felt like he should recognize them. A rain-soaked battleground (not Gronder. Somewhere else. He knew those mountains in the distance. That was Faerghus.). Ten soldiers cutting their foes to ribbons with glowing weapons. Seiros (her, he recognized) stabbing a hulking husk of a man over and over and over. The sword of the creator drenched in blood and foul deeds. Grief, mourning, fear, but also relief and hope. 

The emotions he was soaked in weren't his. Were too old to be his. There was just so much assaulting him all at once. It was ridiculously overwhelming. All the while he questioned why he was there at all. He was doing something. Something rather important. But what? The more he considered it, the longer he watched, the less he felt like he actually knew. His grip on his own sense of self and whatever memories he had slipped. What evidence does he have that this was not all that there ever was? Floating, observing, allowing himself to be swept away by the current of these moments. Swimming against that pull was so difficult. What was even the point? 

Just as he was considering releasing his loose hold, something brushed up against him. Not physically. At least he didn’t think so. It was more spiritual. An energy that he recognized tangled with his own, bringing forth a new vision: a bed coated in sunlight and warmth. Fatigue slipping off him like a blanket to the feel of a calloused hand roaming his back. He couldn’t see this person but he knew who it was. They were peace, purpose...home. That's right. This was what he had been searching for. How could he have forgotten that? Wrapping that tendril of familiarity tightly in his grasp, he tugged and felt a sympathetic pull in return. As he journeyed closer to the source of such intense warmth and comfort, he became more aware of himself. There was a fire raging inside of him. It ebbed and flowed like water. Somehow, this light he was chasing was the solution. Not to the fire. That would likely stay. To something else. Anyway, it didn’t take him too long to reach the swirling vortex of energy he had been longing for. Whatever desperation he had to draw nearer sort of backfired. They slammed together, and he felt himself once more begin to sink into unfamiliar experiences. 

Well, it was less like him being swallowed up this time and much more like red and blue being mixed together on a pallet to make purple. That shade fluctuated around them as they intermingled. Sometimes violet, lavender, navy, magenta, plum. Yuri (is that his name?) wondered if she was feeling this too. This inescapable openness. Like everything he contained within himself had spilled out onto the floor like puzzle pieces from a box. Only they became annoyingly cream colored the moment they fell, so putting the picture together seemed impossible. Reaching out for one painted his entire world in hues of sensorium. A memory. These were memories. 

His. 

Hers. 

Theirs. 

As he worked through them, some of the other pieces exploded into understanding as well. She too was struggling to wade through this one-billion-piece jigsaw. That was fine though. Yuri really didn't know very much at the moment, but if they both could at least figure out what the pieces looked like, maybe they could link them back together. 

While they sorted, he tried to keep some together in different bins. Things that were related. So far there were concepts that fell very neatly into the "things I know about myself" bin. He had to create a subspace for names, which was weird but so far he had Yuri Leclerc, Luka Villarosa, Matthew (no family name), and None of Your Fucking Business (proper noun, used more than once). 

In return, Byleth (which was her name, Byleth Eisner. Born to Jeralt and Sitri Eisner) did much the same. Their progress restored things Yuri had not known someone could lose. Their physical forms, for one. Yuri could not deny that blinking his eyes (which had previously not existed) open and seeing her there across from him was more of a religious experience than his limited remembrances could recall ever having. That feeling was reciprocated, both marveling at the simple miracle of being in each other’s presence.

Which was another weird thing: whatever one of them experienced, the other would as well. That wasn’t just a comment on their being in the same space. He meant literally. Every image playing across Byleth’s eyes also worked itself into his own mind. Byleth confirmed that the same was also true of her. It was bizarre, but at the same time somewhat comforting. Replaying the content of one’s entire life was a loaded affair. Being able to sit at her side as he relived every moment of his existence made the whole thing seem less daunting. In truth, some of their reminiscing was enjoyable. Singing with his mother, learning how to cook, putting on makeup for the first time, playing in the garden with Bernadetta. Those things he wanted to share with Byleth. He wanted to see the good things from her life too.

But not all of them were pleasant. 

_Byleth could remember being left there. Father and the Madam talking in hushed voices. An exchange of money. The sad, tormented look on Jeralt's face as he patted her head and told her to be good. (What right did he have to sorrow? He was the one selling her.) A dagger gifted to her but held by her new captor. The Madam let her be for most of the first week, but dragged her out of bed and into a hall full of loud, haunting music._

_"When you first mustered the strength to stand upon your infantile legs, you did not begin in a sprint. You walked. It is my personal philosophy that dance is how one learns to walk before they fight. Assume complete control over your body. Learn to read the movements of another and react to them without thinking. Listen to the music. Only then will I instruct you."_

_So she danced. Sometimes alone, sometimes she and a partner weaved in and out of each other's spaces. Her skill at it was immediate and unquestionable. The benefit of believing yourself to be empty was that clearing your mind was effortless. A deep breath, a moment to let the world around her slip into the void, then only the music was left. The Madam came to watch her once, sharp gaze cutting into her from across the room. It did not matter. She ordered the violinist to halt but Byleth kept dancing all the same. Instruments were just a formality. The music lived within her now. Madam unsheathed a sword and approached her, with all the grace and deadly intent of a rattle snake. She did not falter. Lunges and swoops of her arm transformed into dodges. Their tango more vicious but no less captivating. Byleth followed a particularly appealing instinct and let the sweep of her outstretched leg make contact with the hilt of the blade, knocking the weapon free from the Madam's hand. The sword's metallic vibrations against the floor still echoed through the room when Byleth lowered herself into a respectful bow._

_A single finger caressed the ridge of her cheekbone, coming away red with blood. The sting of other wounds along her back, legs, stomach settled in like background noise. Byleth did not recognize the look on Madam's face._

_"Do you hate me, girl?"_

_Always girl. No one had names in this place. Those that insisted upon them often disappeared. Typically no one bothered speaking to her without good reason either. This was a strange exception._

_"No," she replied truthfully._

_"Hmm," was all Madam said in return before she turned and left. A woman with a box of bandages and a foul smelling decoction appeared to her after dinner. The next morning, the Madam roused her from sleep before the sun rose with two loud knocks upon her door. Byleth followed without question._

_She was led to a nondescript room. A bland wooden table. One flimsy chair. One door. No windows. The Madam presented the dagger Jeralt had left for her and sunk it deep into the table. After a long, meaningful glance, her matron swept out of the room and was gone. Byleth did not presume that she was free to leave. Her wait did not last long. A man stumbled into the room looking half mad and reeking of booze. The fog in his eyes lifted a bit as he spied her._

_"Heh. What's this then? A wee lass 'ere to collect on the bitch's behalf? Funny." A shiver passed through her as the cocky sneer turned into a predatory smirk. "Kinda pretty for such a small little thing. Always been a greedy man, sweetums. Was told to pay me debt, but I'm thinkin' I just might take a bit more of yer hospitality first, eh? Woman and wine line the path to hell and all that."_

_The man was unstable on his feet, shuffling more than walking. When Byleth flitted away from his grubby reach, he only laughed and licked at his lips. The room was small and he was much bigger than her. If he caught her, Byleth already knew there would be naught she could do about what happened next. As he lunged towards her next, Byleth kicked at his non-dominant ankle, sending him sprawling into the wall face first with a crack. In her haste to put distance between them, she backed up into the corner of the table._

_When the brute peeled himself off of the wall, his nose was bent unnaturally to one side and his face was coated in shiny red. "And 'ere I was tryna show ya a good time. Well, we can play that game too little bitch."_

_The violence sewn into every menacing step he took towards her was reason enough to yank the dagger free from its perch. It didn't come loose with one pull, giving the man ample time to take a fist full of her hair and drag her back against him. Sweaty hands groped at her chest, finally settling on her throat. Even just one squeeze stole the breath from her lungs. As black dots exploded across her vision, a concerto of cello and piano grew louder and louder in her head. It chased away her body's stiffness, cleared her head. With a clean, fluid motion, she twirled in his grasp to sink the blade deep into his throat. The man gargled out a curse, slamming her head down onto the table in retaliation before releasing her to clutch at his wound. Her aim had been lucky, slicing so deep as to lodge itself in his windpipe. Wiggling the weapon free only worsened the injury, blood splattering onto the white floor in waves. He took no more than a single step further before collapsing in a heap._

_Through her dizziness, she realized that she had slumped to the ground. Her attacker did not rise after one moment. Or two. A heavy iron smell threatened to upend her stomach but she resisted the urge. Once she had freed her dagger from that large palm it was trapped in, she scooted back against the wall and closed her eyes. Exhaustion stole an unknown amount of time, but when her eyes slid open once more there were two boys dragging the body away and Madam was staring down at her._

_There was no pity in her gaze. If anything, she looked proud. "Do you hate me, girl?" she asked again._

_It took her longer to respond this time, but her answer had not changed. "No."_

_"You are a rare breed. So young, yet you lack all sense of emotion, pain and affect. You will be an excellent assassin, my dear. But a poor woman." When Byleth did not respond to her observation, the matron offered her a hand. The first bit of kindness she had experienced in this place, if that even qualified. "Come. Let's get you sorted. Tomorrow your real lessons begin."_

Watching that scene had sparked a litany of gross, heavy feelings in him. Without reaching for them, several more memories play all at once. As if in answer of the pain she had shared with him. A group of boys tugging at his hair, grinding his face into the gravel. Being followed from the market, pressed against a grimy wall, pants ripped down to his knees. Then pressure, heat and pain the likes of which he had never felt before. A faceless entity crushing something light and innocent inside him, then leaving him to rot. Staring blankly out at the passerby who ignored his pitiful presence on the street. An emptiness in himself that never quite patched itself up, no matter how long his mother cradled him and stroked his hair.

Wondering whether the plague would have been a better way to perish.

Byleth's presence coated his consciousness as he relived those moments. It was a desperately needed source of solace that drove away the darkness bubbling up in his being. That same darkness that one day learned that the indignity of allowing a forced entry into his body could be exchanged for food, drink, opportunity. Which prompted his wandering hands to gather evidence of his patrons' misdeeds and dangle it over them to trade social standing for riches. Byleth curled in tight against him as he recalled his mother's horrified face when she found him hunting a mark in her stomping grounds, knowing immediately where the sudden flow of money was coming from. Young Luka casting aside his identity and fleeing from the shame. Taking his first life and learning that he was more than capable of doing it again. 

In turn, his memories triggered some of her own. A very confusing romp in a barn that threw her entire idea of the appeal of sex into question. Then back to him again. His first time being propositioned by a woman and spending hours marveling over the irony that his first orgasm had come only after years of shady sex work. Her first solo mission. Forming his gang. Back and forth, they watch each other revisit their own lives, stitching together the pieces into workable timelines and connecting their similar experiences. Throughout it all, that emotional link between them stayed open. While she had never felt any emotion towards some of her own memories as she lived them, now they lingered in mutual visceral reactions. Sharing laughs, leaning into each other through rough patches.

So lost was he in their work that he literally jumped when he heard his own voice echoing out from her recollection. 

_"Turning back already? Oh but you'll make me so sad. Now why would you wanna do that?" A new voice called out, conveniently from the exit they had been planning to flee from. They had been out positioned. The newcomer was a lavender haired...man? Yes. A difficult read. Eyes lined in magenta powder, lips glistening just a bit too much into the dull light to be natural. Such features were not commonplace among men, but the way this one squared his shoulders and the lilt of his voice as he goaded them into a fight verified her theory._

**_This one is dangerous. Proceed cautiously._ **

_Byleth had gathered that much herself. Yet, the way he grinned as they bore their weapons and defended themselves struck her as odd. Almost as if this was but a game. Was that cheeky daring born of confidence or arrogance?_

_Byleth found herself uncharacteristically eager to find out._

There was something unequivocally enjoyable about witnessing this moment from Byleth's equally suspicious and curious view. Especially knowing that Sothis had been so openly hostile at first glance. Absolutely delightful. Though, the fact that he was registering any of this was a marvel. It was not just Byleth's impression of this battle playing out before them. His own was imperfectly juxtaposed on top of it, the pair playing in tandem. Despite the slight overload of information, his mind parsed and compartmentalized whose thoughts were whose rather deftly. Yuri's own opinion of that fight had been a tad bit more...vicious.

_The wyvern rider was a curious sort. Balthus had insisted that he was, in fact, Claude von Riegan, which was a fascinating possibility. Made it worth the trouble to keep them alive. Chuckling to himself, Yuri acknowledged that alive was a low bar to leap over considering how starved he was for a fight. No one ever said the Ashen Wolves were the type not to play with their food._

_And play they did. When the future Duke flipped the switch to no avail, his frustrated growl was glorious. "What are we doing wrong?!"_

_Ah, nobles. Well educated folk tended to fall into the trap of assuming their discoveries were important. Of course the lever in the corner would control the locked gate! Yuri adored abusing that weakness. "I think the better question is: what aren't you doing wrong? Only we can operate that."_

A laugh at his side drew him out of his thoughts. It would seem he was not the only one thoroughly enthralled by his teasing. It must have come as a shock. Claude was usually the one stringing people around by their leashes, not the other way around. 

_Byleth could not deny that this hidden fourth house was worth their salt. Powerful, crafty, good at using their terrain to their advantage, and generally skilled at leading their troops. Had they not had the bad luck of facing the students with Byleth around, they would undoubtedly have emerged victorious. Sadly for them, she had the benefit of experience. She had to hand it to them, though. They weren’t making it easy. Any enemy that could make her desperate enough to rewind time earned her respect. The Wolves had done it thrice. The first was when Balthus's bite was proven to be way more frightening than his bark, knocking Edelgard onto her ass before she could even raise her axe. Hilda faired better, but likely only because Balthus hesitated to hurt the sister of his friend._

_The second had been that party trick of Hapi's. Demonic beasts were difficult to deal with on their own, let alone while under fire from enemy snipers, assassins AND a frustratingly capable long range mage. Claude was still riled up from his verbal spanking from the leader earlier, so his reaction time was regrettably sluggish. Dodging a thrown rock from the beast put him right in the way of Hapi's Death spell, which had hit poor Petunia hard enough to down her. On their repeat attempt, Ashe had blindly shot off an arrow over the wall, just happening to lodge it in Hapi's shoulder and force her to retreat._

_Constance was a good example of a glass canon. Sure, Ashe, Dimitri, Edelgard, Hilda, herself and Claude could all put enough force behind their attacks to knock her out. That didn't stop her from freezing Dimitri and his horse completely solid before they could get close enough. Convincing Linhardt to draw out her attack had been a tough sell, but he was effortlessly able to burn through her spell and grant them the boon of time. Sometimes, Byleth truly did ponder whether just telling him the truth would earn her more of his cooperation without the need to bribe him with promises to study her crest._

**_Doubtful. Would not that be an even more tempting topic of constant investigation? The boy would never leave your side._ **

_That was...a fair point. Better to save herself the grief._

_A startled scream from behind her effectively ended her musing. Whirling around, Byleth spotted Hilda bleeding heavily on the floor. Yuri was already vaulting himself at Ashe, his small company of assassins and swords masters providing him cover from Edelgard and Dimitri, who could hardly land a blow against such speedy foes. As the trickster ran, he carefully kept darting onto magical tiles on the floor. They distorted his image, making it hard to determine where precisely he was standing. Vaguely, she heard Ashe say something about him being Count Rowe's adoptive son before he too was mercilessly cut down._

_The most frustrating part was that Byleth hadn't even heard him coming. Gritting her teeth, she threw time back once more, meeting the stealthy man's steel with her own, urging Hilda to draw back. None of the others would be able to keep up with a foe like this. Best to take care of him herself._

Huh. Well that certainly explained how she darted to Hilda's rescue to aptly. Yuri had just thought her psychic. Or at least, that she was gifted with an unimaginably quick reaction time. Divine Pulse's influence made a lot more sense.

"And yet, you still lost, as I recall," she hummed, playful smirk plain as day on her face. 

That much Yuri would never try to dispute.

_"Well, what have we here? Some lost kids stumbling around in the dark. Stay awhile, won't you?"_

_Yuri's words were almost a purr, thrilled by the swordswoman before him who had just proven herself the most worthwhile mark among the group. While his view of this whole ordeal had been limited by the maze of walls, it had definitely been her voice calling orders to the kids under her command. A Knight perhaps? Maybe a professor? Either way, she was the real threat here. Leaving her to his underlings would be disrespectful. Best to deal with her himself._

_Besides, he would have been awfully jealous if anyone but him took her out. So far, no one had gotten close. That wasn't just a challenge, it was a provocation. One he would gladly answer._

_Pushing away from her, Yuri twirled his blade around to his left hand, slashing at her as he twirled back onto the safety of a mirage tile. She blocked it with only a small adjustment of her own blade. Yuri laughed in genuine excitement._

_  
"It would be a shame indeed not to have a bit of fun with each other while we've got the chance you know? Show me a good time, won't you?"_

_"If defeat is your idea of a good time, be my guest," she returned, positioning herself between him and her allies, who were struggling with his men on their own._

_Cheeky. And cute. Yuri liked her already. "Watch that tongue of yours. I may just cut it off!"_

_Landing a hit on her wasn't impossible. Not for him. Speed was his specialty. The substantiality of those hits was unfortunately lacking. Even if she couldn't block the entire strike, her blade would always manage to deflect it at minimum, leaving her with only superficial scratches. By contrast, Yuri knew that if she ever were to lay that blade of hers against his flesh, it would do more than just sting. At first, Yuri's strategy had been to wear her down. If that ineffable defense of hers withered, victory would be his._

_He fell victim to that strategy far more easily than she did._

_It was becoming increasingly difficult to dance out of the way of her swings. The exhausted part of his brain relished the fact that she couldn't seem to muster the same force behind them as before. Yuri was thinking of leading her close to a wall to pin her when the iron sword she had been wearing down to it's last legs was quite literally thrown at him like a spear. Knocking it away would take a good angle and a lot of power. Too risky._

_Yet, the moment he decided to sidestep the weapon, he knew he had lost._

_All this time, another blade sat unused at her hip. Obviously a Relic, though he had not gotten a good look at it. When the sword lengthened into a serrated whip, Yuri mentally conceded his own defeat. Parrying the strike only wrapped the blade around his own. All it took was a strong tug to drag him off balance and a punch to the gut sealed the deal. Yuri was panting on the ground with a dagger to his throat before he knew what hit him._

_Still, he couldn't say that he was completely disappointed. The blow to his pride smarted, but his mind yet swirled with the sort of adrenaline one could only get from a well-matched fight. The woman could kick some ass. Not to mention that she was kind of stunning. And she had the Sword of the fucking Creator._

_Oh yeah, this was gonna be fun._

And the rest was history. Their whole journey had been a wild ride full of twists, turns and snags, but fuck if he hadn't enjoyed it. Even when things were at their worst, Yuri had relished the cherished friends at his side. Their little patchwork pack of wolves, bearing their fangs at the ancient forces seeking to plunge the world into calamity. All the rules and walls he had erected to protect himself from the disappointing, cruel world fell down in crumpled pieces around him. It didn't matter. He had something else to guard his heart now. A family to go home to when this shit was all over.

Though, at the moment, he wasn't exactly sure how they were going to pull that off.

"Is that really how it ends?" Byleth wondered grimly, admiring the mostly finished mural of the two of them. In the picture, they lay side by side, hands intertwined, foreheads pressed together. A gap yet remained in the middle of Byleth's chest. The only thing keeping them from finishing their task. But as they glanced around this liminal space they resided in, there were no more pieces left to try and fill that hollow. 

Squeezing the hand in his own, Yuri shook his head. "It can't be. It's our story. We should get to decide how it ends."

Byleth's fear radiated off her, brushing against him like a physical touch. It wasn't as if that feeling was alien to him. Yuri had been terrified from the moment Seiros had sharpened her fingers into knives and ripped them into Byleth's body like it was made of paper. All his smart ass jests with Sothis had been a weak attempt to beat down the rising tides of panic. Yuri had never been an optimist. Quite the opposite. But this wasn't something realism could reason through. Existing in this space where their minds and hearts were wrapped around each other snugly defied logic. 

Neither had said it aloud yet, but it was very likely the case that if they had just kept drifting, if they never tethered themselves together like this, their souls would have passed on and all of this would have been for naught. Just as Rhea had said when describing the Rite of Rising: even if the body could be reanimated, if the soul no longer lingered in the realm of the living, it was impossible to resurrect someone. 

Byleth shivered, listening to his thoughts. Wordlessly, she reached up for him, gratitude flittering between them as he met her halfway in a frantic kiss. Warmth flooded his being as she pressed against him. It was strange kissing like this. It was...more than it had ever been. Not just due to his own emotional sensitivity, though that couldn't be discredited. Yuri felt not just like hot slide of her tongue against his own, but the way his tongue tickled the roof of her mouth. The pleasant scratch of Byleth's nails along his scalp was mirrored in the sensation of hair slipping through his fingers, even though his hands were firmly planted on her waist. Everything he felt, she felt. Each sensation was doubled and amplified.

Goddess, what would it be like to have sex this way?

"Naughty," Byleth smirked against his mouth, teeth digging into his bottom lip and making them both gasp. 

"You love it," he countered, mind swimming. It was almost like being drunk. High off Byleth rather than ale. Yuri really really liked it.

"Hmm," she hummed, noncommittally. One hand ran down his neck, resting on his chest. Yuri felt surprise, then confusion from her as she repeated the motion. At his inquisitive noise, Byleth pulled away just enough to meet his eye. "Is that a puzzle piece under your shirt?"

"Or am I just happy to see you? Your sense of humor has gotten weirder, dear."

Rolling her eyes with a laugh, Byleth shot him a saucy smirk. "I _know_ you're happy to see me. But, I'm being serious. Feel this."

Yuri had no objections to his beloved feeling up his chest, even as they struggled to comprehend their own mortality and reaffirm their existence in the realm of man. From his end, nothing felt off. Her fingertips passed over his skin in a fluid motion. But he could imagine the ridge she fixated so doggedly on. His own hands could not detect such a difference, no matter how he rubbed and scratched. Yet, she did.

"Well that's...different."

Without even asking, she was already working on the buttons, parting the cloth just enough to get a good look at his left pec. Once again, his own vision revealed nothing amiss. But the transposition of her sight over his confirmed that there was indeed a puzzle piece, sewn neatly into his skin. Actually, sewn wasn't quite right. It was embedded, quite firmly. Yuri's body tensed when she gave it an exploratory pull, but it didn't hurt. At least, not the way he expected it to. It felt a bit like being electrocuted. If removing it was what it took to free them from this limbo, Yuri would gladly endure the discomfort. 

Something about this whole thing nagged at his brain though.

"This isn't my heart," he voiced idly.

"No," she agreed, palms still worrying over the protrusion. "I think it's mine."

"Tied to me. Because the entire point of this is that I'm supposed to be replacing your heart until it heals." Then, looking down at the flat surface, he wondered, "What if it isn't done yet?"

Like the other pieces, it appeared to be made of wood. Light, thicker than any puzzle Yuri had ever seen. Edges jagged the way all jigsaw designs were, but very clearly shaped like a heart. The kind children would draw, not at all an accurate depiction of the organ itself. Through Byleth's eyes he could see the image missing from the picture painted along the front. There were no cracks. No splits or imperfections. 

Their conclusion was the same. "There's no way we could know just by looking at it."

Sighing deeply, Yuri closed his eyes. That old, familiar fear crept back in like a storm cloud. "I guess we just have to try and tug it loose and see what happens."

The "that might kill you, though" didn't need to be said out loud. 

In truth, time was meaningless here. They'd viewed each other's whole lives. Cover to cover. Over 40 years over experiences between the two of them. Did that happen in real time? Was it slower or faster? There was no evidence with which to conclude anything. Maybe ten years had already passed. Or perhaps no time at all had lapsed once Yuri had dropped off into sleep. Not even Sothis claimed to know what would happen to them under this spell. Whether they lived or died, spent one year or one hundred suspended in between worlds...it all depended on them.

Byleth's presence was too all consuming to be ignored. It was amazing how unconcerned she was. Just her special brand of brave and stupid.

"There are some instances where you can't fold just because you don't like your cards, dear heart," she pointed out in rebuke. "We may never get a better hand than this."

Dear heart. The name made Yuri blush, which was embarrassing and only made the flush worse. Not just a super sweet moniker, but also quite literal. A homage to this crazy gamble they were taking together. Yuri couldn't resent her obvious pleasure at his strong reaction, but he did not look forward to her taking advantage of that weakness in public. Which she would.

Grunting, Yuri bumped her head with his playfully. "Ugh. Yeah. Damnit, you're right. This whole plan was nuts from the start. Why play it safe now?"

Grinning proudly, Byleth wrapped her hand around the puzzle piece. "Let's go home, Luka." His own hand wrapped around her wrist, as if to act in solidarity desire his inability to actually touch the wooden block. The thought was what mattered to Byleth. "Together?"

Taking one final breath, Yuri nodded. "Together."

The world faded into darkness the moment Byleth yanked the piece free.

* * *

There were just some things history would never know.

The heroes of Fódlan gathered together at Garreg Mach in Imperial Year 1185, Unification Year 1, on what would have been the date of the Millennium Festival. To history, and the public, the purpose of this grand festival was to usher in a new age for Fódlan as well as the newly allied country of Almyra. 

What history did not see was Edelgard, Dimitri and Claude following Sothis once more to the sanctum under the monastery. There, they found a certain coffin, sealed for five years, lying open and empty. All that remained was two long locks of hair, one blue and one purple, tied together into a braid. Dimitri hastily offered to assign men to tracking down their missing friends, but Sothis halted him with a gentle, teary smile.

"It is their right to fade into anonymity if they so desire. They will find us when they want to be found."

And so history forgot about Byleth Eisner and Yuri Leclerc. Any record of them ended in 1180, where they supposedly gave their lives to secure a future for their country. No official funeral was ever held. Several letters passed between the Claude and Edelgard mentioned "those two", without giving a name. As far as any outsider knew, that was where their story ended.

Those that were closest to them knew better, though.

Officially, Lady Sothis and Sir Jeralt stayed at the monastery for several months after that festival, making structural changes to the tattered remains of the Church of Seiros. Unofficially, they snuck away to Constance von Nuvelle's villa and spent two weeks in rowdiest, most joyous slumber party they'd ever known. Where there may or may not have been two very unexpected guests to the Nuvelle estate that broke into the manor and were caught sharing a bottle of the Viscountess' most expensive wine and eating all her imported cheese. Perhaps these guests also dragged that entire party with them to Hevring and got married in secret on the beach where Claire Villarosa and Linhardt himself could attend the ceremony. Maybe there was even a cake.

But that was all hearsay. The only possible source of evidence of such a course events was found in the margins of a book kept in the Nuvelle estate for generations after Constance's passing. The title of the book was unimportant but the script read as follows:

_For I have loved so much since that faithful day in Abyss, I remember not what loneliness felt like. Whether among this new nobility playing in high society's ashes or under the night sky with my fellow moon drunk monsters, I am home. Birds of a feather, free from our shackles, unbound and blissful, I fear not the periods of solitude, for I know that I am held ever in their hearts. And they in mine. Though life may pull us ever forward, the flow of time cannot ward off our natural attraction. For we are a family of wolves, hopelessly intertwined. And our pack is as forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck y'all. I finished it. Like for real for real. AHHHH. 
> 
> Thank you all SO SO much for supporting me through this. I am immensely happy that you were all so engaged by my writing. My love for the Wolves, Byleth, and Sothis is boundless so I very well may end up writing more one shots. I have one now that is actually planned. It may take me months or literally a week. I have no idea. If you subscribe to the "Flying Together" series, you'll get a notification if/when that ever does happen though.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed the ending. 
> 
> (No, I'm not crying. You're crying.)

**Author's Note:**

> Good? Ok? Terrible? Lemme know! Also feel free to scream at me about FE in general on twitter or tumblr @kairiofknives.


End file.
